I do not recognize who I am
As I look down my arms and see my hands.
These veins trace paths I have not walked
These palms speak but we've never talked
My inky fingertips lend me a hint
Someone has stolen my finger's print
Mountainous knuckles cast shadows above
Where blood is found after battles with love
Who am I? That remains unanswered
Are my hands unique or are they standard?
These callouses I see cannot be mine,
I was just born and am barely alive
There's dirt under my nails and I am frightened
My introspection level has heightened
I now see before me a six foot hole
Engulfing my body but never my soul
I am repulsed by the bloody corpse below
Whose hands are sullied by desires most shallow
New hands appear on me—pure
What comes next? Of that I'm unsure
But now I can fly, the caterpillar is dead
So I venture on, boldly, ahead!
