So small

by Melissa   Apr 5, 2006


My hands are two tiny ants
crawling over meadows
and hiding under trees,
far too little to be seen.

They are incapable of loving
without suffering,
too weak to move oceans
and beaches to metaphorical lands.

Too strange to accept,
but too familiar to deny...

These fingerprints tell me my name,
my social security number,
but nothing about my heart
or the filthy soil of impotence
that lies underneath my fingernails.

My palms tell me when I'll die,
but not how or why
and these fragile bones
speak of frailty as if it were a disease
caused by adversity.

Still I ask for a pen,
but why?

To speak of my inadequacies
and let the world know
that I am not like Jesus,
I cannot heal holes
and be brought back to life.

That my hands are too small
to scribble substantial words
that can even make a difference at all?

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Latest Comments

  • 15 years ago

    by KeyxMashingxParody

    Hands create, but hands feel as well.

    Well done my dear.

  • 18 years ago

    by Simon Hayes

    Very powerful... Powerful, emotional and deep. A great write!!

  • 18 years ago

    by Kim

    There is something so intriguing about this poem, I don't know if it was the word choice or what but I was hooked from beginning to end. Nicely done, great poem and a original idea, wonderful!

  • 18 years ago

    by HOLLY ARMER

    Brilliantly written! I really don't know what else to say about this poem.
    Quite thought provoking and it leaves me in a state of awe....
    Take care and keep it up~Holly

  • 18 years ago

    by Laura

    The words you have written fully describe the way i feel most times...it is good to know that there are others who may feel the same...this poem was really hit home for me...
    It wa also very well written you honestly do have a very talented way of getting your message across in yoyr writting. 5/5

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