I look at my fingers 
And wonder 
The things that I can accomplish with them

I can use them to write 
A poem much like this one 
Write about love
About hate
And how cruel to us 
Was our fate

I can collect in their tips 
An ounce of my love 
And caress your cheeks
And gently run my thumb 
Across your lips 
Making both of us 
Weak in our knees

Or I can go a little dark
As I remember 
The uneventful past
And trace my fingers 
Down to your neck 
And Squeeze the breath 
Out of your lungs 
As I watch your fingers
That lose their strength 
Attempting to scratch 
My expressionless face

I can even place them
These fingers 
On a trigger of a loaded gun 
And look into the eyes 
Of the person before me
Or myself in the mirror
And bring about the end of a life

I can even give life 
By planting a seed 
Into the ground 
And touch gently 
It's leaves with 
These very fingers 
Or pluck them off
One by one

These fingers of mine 
Are capable of doing anything
Just like yours
Only if you too, wonder
Like I do