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
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