Fingertips
Fingertips.
Look at your fingertips they are unique you know
Something we don’t think of, and yet them we grow.
That little pattern in a swirl on the end
Is your own work of art that God on you penned
How amazing it is a tip of one of your fingers
It can bring joy and feel pain, and both may linger.
It can be sensuous, moving in little circles decreasing
To make you cry out, in joy and releasing
It can be warm as you like, as warm as toast
But so cold in the winter, like shaking hands with a ghost
It is sensitive to a degree oh so refined
Tracing round lips so gentle, so fine.
That little swirl on the end of your finger, each line,
You alone are the owner, and you can say it is mine.
Don’t treat them rough and they will last you forever
They won’t wear out with time, as things you think more clever
There is another special thing your fingerprint can do
And that is that they can identify you.
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