Building

These hands were meant to build.

Build what you ask?

Not a clue, as to exactly what their mission is

But I can tell you what my feet were meant to do

Walk. Yeah, I’m about to get deep with ya

These feet were gifted

Only to be used in only the most extreme of cases

Fight or flight

Right or stand firm

Light a cigarette every now and then

Metaphorically

Maybe that was the wrong flame to fan

I meant to say

Don’t lose your fire, your blaze

Your passion

Craft your own fashion

And unknot the ties of anyone who might hate it

Announce your worth don’t lash out

Just attach onto the dogma that those hands

Your hands were the clay held and molded

In order that you would never be scolded for a assembling

Ideas and searching for the other puzzle pieces

You can order anything off the menu

I’m tellin you that every combination and every order is its own masterpiece

Your hands were meant to craft stars, as well as tasty pies and mouth watering spaghetti

And smooth, creamy cheesecake

And your feet were meant to walk.

Across lake and barren desert

Through raging white waters and immense expanses

Within the fire and hellish water

Oh beautiful feet

Know that each bone has a specific purpose

Know that your feet were created to hold the weight of your world

Upon their hinges because God knew we couldn’t do it alone

He knew we would run from Him

So he imprinted upon our being a constant reminder that no matter how far we believe

We can run, we will always be racing to His will

Oh beautiful feet

You were meant to streak across the stars leaving only stardust and the slightest evidence of your magnificence

Hermes’ envy and Athena’s dreams

The product of omnipotence, the brainchild of realities’ champion

Past, present, and forever tense

This is for the lame and the mute.

The dismembered and the trapped in a noose

People. I can’t stress this enough

That your hands. Your feet. Your mouth.

They were designed to shout.

Scream the purpose that fills the veins of our skin

Our sins might cover our bodies, but a roof of potential and change

Hangs over your heads.

Ignore your flaws’ insecurities and harness them

Buckle them up around your waist and get comfortable in the backseat to the booster beat

Don’t worry you don’t need to ignore them

All you need to do is bleed a little bit

It will hurt present

And it will stain present future

And it will heal sooner than later

Because scars will remind you that the vessel shed

Was only a downside

And the shattered shell

Was only a untimely end to tell

I’m telling you to turn upside down.

And let the failures and the red caked edges and the tears of

Days and tales past

Sing your story