Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.98

From Email:	Required Email Address Not Valid.
To Email:	Email Address Not Valid. Required
Subject	Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem	So delicate my hands, and long, They might have been my pride. And there were those to make them song Who for their touch had died. Too frail to cup a heart within, Too soft to hold the free- How long these lovely hands have been A bitterness to me!
	Type the characters you see in the picture Required