My Father's Hands

I looked at a picture today
Of me in my first father's arms
I was only one or two
I still had that innocent charm

I took a glance at his face
His eyes, shining so bright
Not like they usually did back then
Full of anger, hate, despite

I moved down to his lips
Frozen in fake smiling
Not radiating his song for me
Or the grin he gave when lying

I stared at his shoes
Like I always did when I was small
When he was beating and screaming
Beating his own flesh and blood with no regrets at all

And then my eyes set upon
His hands, my greatest fear
Wrapped around me in the photo
Like to him I was something dear

There are no words to describe
What those hands have done
They've touched me in sinful places
Have made me want to run

How many times those hands
Left my mother on the floor
Held a beer bottle and cigarette
Made me not want to live anymore

The fingers curled around me
How many times have I seen
Those hands, striking me down
In all of my worst dreams

They picked up a chair once
And threw it at my head
Now I trace that scar today
Those hands I've grown to dread

They have been the source
Of all my worst nightmares
I feel like I have always deserved
To be beat, alone, and scared

How am I to know
That I'll never see those hands again?
I can't ever be sure
If they will commit on me more sin

My father's hands
Have hate in every bone
I never meant anything to them
I hope to God they leave me alone

I touch the hands in the photo
And I start to shudder
I know how much they've scarred me
I hope they aren't scarring another

"Daddy, please don't hit me
Your hands make Momma cry
I know I am a mistake to you
But really, I do try

Please let down your fists
And just let me be free
I can't take this anymore..."
Oh, what those hands have done to me.

**let's hope I never meet those hands again.**

Car