Fingers

In all ten For my life of pen: For the prize-fighter's fists From the eyes summoning mists. To our own eyes move straight, When we can no longer wait To rid them of slumber And add to the outside world’s number. Often gesturing our wish To throw together some dish And eating it off zoom, The hell getting out of our room! Sometimes, combating the itch In public An Embarrassing : And the pin-pricking worms Picnicking in our rectums! In creativity, The Wisely Engaged, When inventive mind is not hedged To every onlooker reminding That on one it is binding To display his being the rod Moses had picked from God Fingers can Mister A land in trouble And Mister B supply a double.