Those Hands by Zenobia Dean

You see, those hands watched me play all day.

I treated them like glitter and gold.

I loved those hands.

When those hands came around, my eyes just began to sparkle. 

It was almost like I craved the soft touch of those playful hands.

You know, as a child you would never think that a touch so soft was so harmful.

Because the person with the soft hands became so meaningful.

Those hands became so cold.

And the next thing you know, there was a story to be told.

Those hands weren't nice anymore.

At least not to a beautiful brown eyed little girl.

All she wanted was the world.

But, eventually the image from those hands did fade.

You see, those hands, played a huge part in the mistakes she's made.

She's learned that not everyone is love, and love isn't everyone.

And she's learned you can't blame everyone for mistakes that SHE'S made.

Now that little girl wants to have a future.

She's grown up thinking about her future.

She's got her head above the rest

With big ideas ready to test.

Those hands didn't stop her, and although those hands did fade.

That memory still remains.

Those hands won't ever get her again.

Because she won't let them touch her again.

I know this because that little girl is me.

And my future now is up to me.