#myspace archives

Mama's Hands were brown and calloused as they gently caressed my face and their lines told a story of sweat, blood and life. Mama's Hands were the hands that held my generation when we were born it was her skin we first felt upon her flesh our first teardrops fell and as the years passed we never forgot her touch. Mama's Hands built the family and brought us together; Her hands dried our tears soothed our heartaches lessened our hardships raised our young ones and guided our elders. Mama's Hands connected the past to the present while pointing us towards the future. Without her hands I would not be the many things I am today And to her hands, Her brown and calloused hands I owe my life.