Hands

[Taliana]

Hands:
are dry
they cry
they burn
they learn
hands yearn to touch
yearn to be touched.
to love, to hold,
to never grow old.
Hands age
hands crave
thye learn
to be brave
They become wise
in my eyes
its the wrinkles
you desire.
Just another useless poem, written and posted.

 

[plazma]

Another great poem from Miss Low Self Esteem 2002...
*huggles Taliana*
Seriously hun, you might think your work is a crock of shit, but you'll have to work at it to convince the rest of us.

-plaz out-