His eyes tell a story

I can never understand,

for I have not seen

what they’ve seen.

His hands speak of things

I can never comprehend,

for mine have not

laboured like his have.

The lines on his face

speak of things

I cannot fathom,

for I have not

known such things.

His skin, pigmented

and aged by years

of sun exposure,

tells of events

I cannot perceive;

for I have not

witnessed such

atrocities.

© C.J. Spammer

Response to our Inspiration Call on April 6, 2017

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Categories: Featured Writer's

Tags: Creative Talents Unleashed, Featured Writer, Poetry, writer