My Hands

My hands are tired
And wracked with age

Their labors cost them
Placed in harms way

They'er scared from thorns,
Stones and blades

They tremble some
And ache with pains

They've done all I've asked
In all my days

The skills they've learned
Are beyond my age

So now they teach
Before knowledge fades

Soon they'll rest
At the end of my days