look at my hand, so closed, so firmly closed
when I force it up, it opens like a rusty lock
finger by finger folds back into a fist
I look at my hand, surprised
the fist is there, I weigh it
O, so heavy, so mean, ready to strike
but whom? I raise it high up into the air
the fingers open and let in the sunlight
it's there, like behind bars
Originally Posted On Site: 2009-05-18 16:08:09
Last Login: 05.24.12
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