Those hands show the many years of continuous hardship, but with the beautiful struggle and time all is subdued.
This enduring hands tells story's that her mouth couldn't dear to utter, strong, brave was she for silently withstanding the ever tiring battles of life.
These hands are not mine, but they still need the same comforts and care that my own crave for.
Listen to the hands echoes, let them ring loudly into your ears, while her words can be seen through her delicate hands, she still remains quiet as the graves that she finds homely...
-Ethiiochick