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The Measure of Our Hands

 

We wake each day with empty palms,  

fingers fumbling for fleeting rewards,  

a paycheck folded into tight corners,  

proof that effort can fill a fridge.  

 

But beyond the clinking of coins,  

there\'s a language unspoken, unseen,  

it\'s in the way a smile lingers,  

stretching across another\'s heavy day.  

 

You cannot sip from a silver spoon,  

and taste the salt of shared kindness,  

cannot cash in the gift of laughter,  

or deposit the warmth of holding hands.  

 

We stitch a life in quiet gestures,  

in moments freely given, freely taken,  

an invisible thread pulling us closer,  

to what it means to truly live.