Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

On the Other Hand...

I have two hands.

My right hand resembles my past;

My past thought processes

Insults and compliments paid to me.

Friends,

Lovers,

Liars,

Cheaters,

Rapists.

My left hand resembles my future;

My future thought processes,

Ambitions,

Friends,

Lovers,

My actions and reactions to insults and compliments

The lines on this hand act as guides

They pave the way to the future self I want to be

The lines on my other hand act as scars,

Calloused reminders of memories best left forgotten,

Traces of every bad thought of myself etched into my skin.

My hands are 25 years old

They hold everything I am and what I've done,

They will help me shape and mold a future they can grasp.

Bad habits are a ***** to break.

My bad habit has always been hearing insults louder than compliments and then in turn insulting myself

Right hand--past.

That's the thing I know I need to work on and strengthen my mind against.

I need to start thinking good things and hearing the compliments,

Left hand--future.

But...there inlays my problem...

I'm right handed.

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
chelsea-molin
28 / F / American
Published
Jun 28, 2018
Lines·Words
31·181
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell chelsea-molin how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write