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Yesterday (I Had Fingers)


Two hands make a whole,
A stigma to bind the soul.
Yet God would think me awful silly,
If I dropped my scarf when the wind was chilly.

 

Yesterday, I had fingers,
Today, I do not,
I’m a handicapped dead ringer,
Of a badly aimed gunshot.

 

Yesterday, I could open,
My zipper in a single trick,
But now my bone’rs broken,
And I can’t even touch my dick.

 

Yesterday, I fed my critter,
A bunny named Mr Thumps,
But now he’s left starved and bitter,
For all I have are stumps.

 

Yesterday, I sipped so dinky,
From a dainty china cup,
Before I’d cushion the fall with my pinky,
But now it thuds down so abrupt.

 

Two hands make a whole,
A stigma to bind the soul.
Yet God would think me awful dumb,
If I tied my laces with my thumbs.

 

Yesterday, I had fingers,
Today I do not.

 

This poem is protected by copyright of © Laura Anne Karniva, permission must be granted for use elsewhere

Background image: Surrounded by © Laura Anne Karniva, All Rights Reserved 2018
The photograph featured on this page is owned by Titters 'N' Chortles Media

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