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Poetry - Hands
Oct. 28th, 2024 10:48 amHands. —
My hands tend to crack,
And with that snap,
They hold my pencils and pens,
For me to mend the minds of others
My pen is a part of that plan,
But alas,
My pen is a part of that plan,
But alas,
My art ; my work,
My work ; my passion,
But without these aching hands,
My art wouldn't stand.
