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My hand
Dear hand,//
I admire your strength, beauty, and perseverance/
I know I put you through a lot,/ but you are always there for me/
The burn I left on you from the hot oven/
The unattractive, chipped, black nail polish/
The accidental fall /
And every know and then, blisters from my #2 pencil,/
You must really despise that thing by now//
But you have survived/
You survived the harsh winter/
The un-bearingly hot summer/
The breezy fall/
And the rainy spring//
Your silk brown skin compliments the rest of me/
Your long fingers provide me with some help/
Even your small beauty mark reminds me of how precious you are/
I use you for sports/
I use you for eating/
I use you for working/
But you have gotten your revenge,/
The slip-ups, where your fingers scratch me too hard/
Where they land in my eye or nose/
You know what I am talking about//
But then again maybe you don’t,/ because you do not have eyes/
You cannot speak with out a mouth/
You cannot hear with out ears/
And you cannot understand what I am talking about/
After all, you are just a hand//
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