My hands are empty
Lines though faint and dark
On my palms and fingers
End analysis is always stark
But my hands are empty
Innocent of blame
They don’t accept or deny
But maybe secretly proclaim
For my hands are empty
Everything slips away
Here now then gone
Hope alone stays in the fray
Empty hand, empty hands
That is all
Words could help
If only they would call
Tuesday, 7 October 2008
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