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Sore

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Below is the poem entitled Sore which was written by poet James Graham. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Sore

Hands that have seen many a storm.
Hold and cuddle the fragile form
Of an infant child’s bare skin.
Pulling him close to keep him warm.

Hands that press forcefully, to pin
The head of a man who can’t win
Into the barrel of a gun
Or a baseball bat crushing a shin.

Hands weathered ‘cause they would not run.
Hammered nails and lifted a ton.
Brought home money and food to eat.
Have grown old as life’s just begun.

Hands chapped and raw from snow and sleet.
Blistered and burned from too much heat,
labored long to prevent defeat,
labored long to ensure defeat.

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  1. Date: 6/13/2010 5:05:00 PM

    yes hands just one of the miracles of man! Interseting form!

  1. Date: 5/19/2010 4:27:00 PM

    Powerful poem with much for the reader to ponder about. Congratulations on having it featured. I wish you continued success with your writing. Karen

  1. Date: 5/18/2010 11:58:00 AM

    Many congrats on your featured piece this week. Rgds Janette

  1. Date: 5/17/2010 4:56:00 AM

    Congratulations on your poetry being featured this week James. Love, Carol

  1. Date: 4/12/2010 9:48:00 AM

    You seem to be a very busy man. I have enjoyed reading your poetry today. Thank you! ...... Irma hole.

  1. Date: 4/12/2010 9:34:00 AM

    Nice one, P.D. WAS HERE .