A realisation struck me one night,
Looking at photos of hands, as you might.
I jumped with a start at something I saw;
A knuckle, protruding from the edge of the wrist.
I couldnt believe it was something I'd missed
Thumb Knuckles; they exist? I started to cry.
I lifted my babyish hands to the sky.
Staring at the stout little thumbs that I own;
I had wondered why they wouldnt reach over;
I was missing a piece like an unlucky clover.
Thumb Knuckles; I say, if you've got them be glad,
You dont know the hell of wishing you had.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of my Mind
PoesiaThese are a collection of poems that I have written in my spare time and at University. They're in practically chronological order from 2009 - present day (except the first couple) so the most recent updates WILL be more thought-out and poetic. But...
