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