They are taken for granted
We use them everyday
Are they what keeps us so candid?
They actually define us commoners
They can be rough, soft, dry, moist, cold, warm
I might even have the same hands as my grandmother.
Now that you look, they seem really weird
It is just a body part with five extensions of usefulness
They should be honored but some are feared.
We have so much power
With hands all is possible
But can they also make you a coward?
Paradoxical is their definition
Please consider them with admonition
You never need their permission
The word seems so eccentric now
They even help me type this poem out
I wish they can take my bow.