Lanny's Blog


Hands of skin, hands of bone.

Holds a child and throws the stone.

Hands so gentle, hands of hate.

A friendly fawn, a deadly snake.

Our hands create, our hands destroy,

Some with anger, some with joy.

Wash our hands to clean our sins,

Then put them in the dirt again.

Open palms, constricted fists.

Wave goodbye to those we miss.

Hands extended, or keep them close,

Hurt the ones we love the most.

One day I will take these hands,

Give them to a better man.

He will one day take a stand.

And make better use of these hands.


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