Array ( [sid] => 184762 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Once Mighty Hands [time] => 2018-01-02 21:35:14 [hometext] => The dark robe and scythe breathe on my dreams [bodytext] =>
Such beating life has in tumult assault mine this skin
clothing these once mighty hands.
Oysters stood no chance against these once fierce finger bands.
Gears ground smooth in fear, oh, I caused them to roll, while
popping oil splatters in culinary matters took their blistered toll.
Yet now this skin flaked to tissue ripping,
dressing these once anvil hands in quivering, withering hold.
Scars I smile at mark memories of times that will ever live;
Oh, how I cringe to see them now,
frail in the mist of age in which I gave, still give. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 118 [topic] => 44 [informant] => invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Nostalgic ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Once Mighty Hands


Once Mighty Hands
Date: Tuesday, 2nd January 2018 @ 09:35:14 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: invierno

Such beating life has in tumult assault mine this skin
clothing these once mighty hands.
Oysters stood no chance against these once fierce finger bands.
Gears ground smooth in fear, oh, I caused them to roll, while
popping oil splatters in culinary matters took their blistered toll.
Yet now this skin flaked to tissue ripping,
dressing these once anvil hands in quivering, withering hold.
Scars I smile at mark memories of times that will ever live;
Oh, how I cringe to see them now,
frail in the mist of age in which I gave, still give.

This poem is Copyright © invierno


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