These fingers of mine

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

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