Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2013
My hands are all I know,
They're all with which I feel.
Callused, scarred and water logged,
My hands will never heal.

The work I've done, the work I'll do,
Will take it's wicked toll.
My weathered hands age right along,
with my weathered soul.
Jonathan Firmin
Written by
Jonathan Firmin  Boone, NC
(Boone, NC)   
327
   --- and Kyleigh Anne
Please log in to view and add comments on poems