Naive Hands

Written 12 December 1990

Old hands my dear

Old hands I fear

They knew the pen and they knew the brush

I’m not quite sure if they knew too much

But the veins are drawn up to the skin

In an evil, smirking, jeering grin

And through the years the bones show through

As they aimlessly attempt to chew

Out of the body

Into tomorrow

With neither the strength or none to borrow

So they bury themselves in the joints so deep

Brood in pain

Alone to weep

Reviews

[Bella-Marie]

I like the rhyming, scattered slightly but well placed. Excellent! love it!