Poppa's hands are wore and aged
They have seen a century of history
All the wrinkles and scars from the years
Life made it's mark, the world has issued its sentence.

Poppa's hands were once strong and steady
Sweating and bleeding in the fields
Holding the weapons of war, holding the hand of a fallen soldier
Gentle and Hard at the same time

Fighting the evil of a **** Nation
Protecting and Serving with every motion
Struggling to use a pen to write to his love at home
Wiping away tears, all at the young age of 17

Poppa's Hands are gentle and wise
Holding a baby with a twinkle in his eye
Watching the child grow, catching each fall
Supportive and harsh, strict and kind

Poppa's Hands held mine through the years
Guided me through his garden, working with the land
Running his hands through the dirt
Picking the fruit and vegetables provided by our lord

Poppa's hands gave to his fellow man
Always willing to lift another soul up
Poppa's hands supported my Nanna in her final days
Held and stroked her skin until the very end.

Poppa's hands are now to weak to move
Unable to lift his great granddaughter in the sky
Unable to climb a tree
Unable to be what they were once
Now I can hold my Poppa's hand and pray
Pray to guide poppa's hands to his true home