These hands were once so small
Little fingers grip so light
Now they've grown to hold a ball
As large as a foot wide
Along the way the journey goes
From child to adult
A loss of innocence for what's known
Jilted jolt by jolt
Each day a piece dies away
Only to become
The crusted steel crescent thin shell
Hallowed. Frozen. Numb.


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Hi folks, I'm a software development manager. I've worked with computers most of my life. I write a poem a day about whatever strikes my fancy. I hope they make you smile.