Hands

We use our hands for what we do.

Hands

The child’s hands
Reach out in awe
Ever amazed
As they explore

The mother’s hands
Hold a child so pure
Crying for all the suffering
Man has had to endure

The farmer’s hands
Full of dirt
Rough from wear
Never caused hurt

The soldier’s hands
Full of blood
From horrors which
Should never be understood

The civil servant’s hands
Write you away
To them you’re a number
And you must pay

The government’s hands
Are over the button
Once pushed
All will be forgotten