A foolish hand,
with deft precision,
brings mortal souls,
to life’s excision.
Cuts a life,
from Earth’s existence,
driving twice,
with mad persistence.

A body bleeding,
wounded, dying.
A mother, child,
standing, crying.

A steady doctor’s hand defies,
the life and death of acts unwise.
Death escaped, by steady palms,
though steady hands won’t understand.

A life is saved through care and trust,
a life destroyed by hate and lust.
A life in steady, deadly hands,
puts faith in where the dagger lands.

~ Andrew
Hands can create and destroy and it’s up to you what yours do. Over Your Shoulder feels a good poem to read along with this though I’d avoid reading them on dark stormy nights 😉 Not that my poems really intend to scare but it does put a little doubt in your mind.


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