The same hands which have sinned
A hundred ways
Have bestowed a hundred acts of love
My hands
Have thrown pills down my throat
And cut my thighs with a razor
My hands
Have held crying friends
And healed creatures
My hands
Slapped my sisters face
And fought alongside her
My hands
Have prayed to the wrong gods
And built my spirit
Sometimes I wish to rid myself
Of these cursed hands
But memories of tender hearts
I’ve caressed my love into
With these twisted hands
Hold them fast
-
Author:
H.R. Powell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 25th, 2020 01:38
- Comment from author about the poem: Sometimes in moments of self hatred one needs to self reflect and notice the good.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 18
Offline)
Comments2
There is always good and bad. That's life.
an impressive bit of self disclosure.. or insight.. or maybe a bit of both.. enjoyed regardless.... Take care and stay safe... Neville
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