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Her Hands
Her hands held me gently on the
day I was born..
Her hands held me close when the world was scary.
Her hands would show me that she would
take care of me
Her hands were often there to comfort the pain that I didn't always show.
Her hands would
point to the stars, and encouraged me to reach.
Her hands would also push me, though not down.
Her hands would
punctuate her words, "just do what I say."
Her hands sometimes had to show me the correct path. Right
and Wrong
Her hands would shape and mold me into all she knew I could be.
Her hands are more beautiful than anything.
Her hands are the reason I am me.
Matthew
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