I fall apart a lot
If you look closely you can see it in my hands
The way the lines branch out reaching for a helping hand
The arches show the pain
And the faint lines that I am yet to understand
Why my story is being told in the palm of my hands
The roughness of my palm is supposed to tell the type of life I had
But where the lines meet is where happiness seems to stand
And so i patiently wait my days out
Just to feel happiness one more time again
-by M. S. Peart
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