dear god,
chop off
and take away
these hands of mine,
that know not how to give,
for they are infused not
with the warm blood
of a tender heart,
eyes looking within,
but are smeared
with the grease and grime
of a ragged form
with roving eyes,
that only wants to live
at any cost,
not die,
so others may live.
chop off
and take away
these hands of mine,
that know not how to give,
for they are infused not
with the warm blood
of a tender heart,
eyes looking within,
but are smeared
with the grease and grime
of a ragged form
with roving eyes,
that only wants to live
at any cost,
not die,
so others may live.
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