his hands were what frightened me
thick fingers mottled like raw sausages
and cold like the marble on a tomb
regardless of his learned mind and words
i shuddered internally at his gestures
casual waves that displayed palsied limbs
look at his eyes — look for his soul
intelligent blue orbs and poetic words
could not undo the nightmares that
hung on the ends of his arms
I like the flow and the radiant thoughts of this poem. by-the-way, how come you write such a simple idea with such strong words. I always wonder! That is what makes me to come here and here again……I just love to be here!
I bear scars but they seldom bespeak of me
Do not extrapolate so soon,
you might miss out –
learning is a painful process,
but think for a moment how joyous pain can be.