Different lives, different stories
All told in two sets of hands. Every mistake,
Every success, all can be read in the palms
of these two very different hands.
His hands,
they are rough, and worked.
They have hidden secrets, and
plenty of good and bad times embedded in them.
My hands,
they are small, and smooth.
Untold mysteries and stories unknown,
a line on each hand telling of my past and present.
But somehow together they fit.
Like a hand in a glove, or two puzzle pieces together.
Different stories coming together to
make many new memories in the palms of
our hands
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
ha i liked it alot good job