deepundergroundpoetry.com
Hands Out
Sometimes, I cannot keep my hands open.
For my hands will splinter,
As life is thrown at me.
It's heavy dose of reality,
Of pain.
Other days I am eager,
Happy to have willed my palms out.
Catching the sun,
The joy,
And the love.
For my hands will splinter,
As life is thrown at me.
It's heavy dose of reality,
Of pain.
Other days I am eager,
Happy to have willed my palms out.
Catching the sun,
The joy,
And the love.
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