These hands of mine have caught tears, held hands, and smoothed over a long, hard day of my sweet sister's. These hands have guided a piece of chalk, a paintbrush, a crayon over a surface to make a visual piece of my love, hurt, anger, and so many other feelings I don't know how to explain.
These hands... Oh, what they have...
These hands! They have felt.
These eyes! They have seen hurt, sorrow, love, anger, happpiness, and so many other things that have brought inmumerous tears to these eyes of mine.
These arms! They have held. They have hugged. They have been cried on in many a hard time.
These legs! They have been bruised from my harsh play on the playground. Have carried me to the ones I love. Carried me away from the hurt.
These ears! No longer virgin thanks to people with no better words to say. Have heard the words put together by people with such love for sounds and words. Heard the horrible makings of a acoustic guitarist...
These hands. These hands have carried, loved, felt and endured this life I am surrounded by.
