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on my hands

On my hands there are a million things Cuts, stains and pencil marks And a thousand little dreams On my hands there are so many lines Little roads leading one to another Like moving stories of losing time On my hands there are many words Of joy and sorrow unrelieved That seem precious and old On my hands there is shame For a friend to come near For someone to bear my pain On my hands there is an unseen stain it’s someone’s blood this I know left while I remain

Copyright © | Year Posted 2007




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