Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2014
your two hands they
create stories and pictures
and plans they take
forms and shapes very
close to my face they
sculpt our future and
later blame it on fate
they hold my chin and
they hold my waist and
stroke my hair they
play with my fingers
my skin and flesh but
my two hands they
are cold and lax they
only know how to
hold your hands
Disha Verma
Written by
Disha Verma  Meerut
(Meerut)   
662
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems