Hands Of Mine Poem by John Ackerman

so I sit here alone with my hand gripping the phone
life can be so damn mysterious when your dealing with the derilrious
hearts will implode when I'm ought playing a game of solid gold
these hands of mine have been through places with certain traces
with one stroke of affection we can love then the other towards hate
meet me in the middle playing second fiddle

one hand to hold a heart will mend
with whom you came to depend
there are heavenly hands with eyes that understand
each of us has been given agreat gift yet some of us let it drift
hands can greet you see in our society
lovingly, tenderly & harmony deep inside of me

a true real artist works with his hands
sharing their craft with lovers under cover
some use their hands for abuse
others let loose with their hands you all understand
these hands of mine will never enter the gates of hell
cause I got a great story to tell

two young lovers desperate in the night
come together to love and express their rights
within their passion their hands will do the asking
with non verbal communication to suit each others vested delegation
both have learned something with their hands
let's let the reader understand
coupled through a cool breeze they are left feeling pleased
in the night club later when they both need a hug hands are there
without a word nor a care these hands of mine will be there