Hands Poem by B3k Baylon

My Fate's written in the palm of my hands, so I've been told.
Etched deep are lines of endless odds, but my life's gone cold
Days, hours, minutes, and seconds passed me by- - Oh dear!
I tried to decipher what future lies ahead but it's not clear…

Gazing at the endless horizon, thinking of what's gone ahead.
Musings come and go, can't think at all…sanity must've fled…
I wonder if I can carve my own lines on these hands of mine.
I would want to write my own story, oh that will be divine!

Cut a long deep stroke to shun the chasm of pain and sorrow.
Connect a line here and there for a much brighter tomorrow.
From then on I'll be able to stare at my bony hands and see,
A strain of need? Not a bit, na-ah! only joy raised to infinity.

But will this ever suffice? Will it ever fill the gaps, so I thought…
I dreamed of a paved path, bumps and holes there's naught
Oh I wouldn't contemplate of it any other way, so I've decided...
I'll be just fine with these lines of fate, raw and overextended

There will be a time when I'll carry all these upon my shoulders,
With pride, hold my head up and let wisdom fill and flow over…
Whoever gets to hold these hands to feel the roughness and all.
Is lucky enough to have someone who's not afraid of a free fall.