stainless hands

I’ll take my dirt black hands
Traverse this stagnant land and plant/
I’ll drag this plow
I’ll turn this earth
I’ll spurn this child’s past/
I’ll backtrack through her parent’s plight
I’ll dry and light her wick/
I’ll make her cry because it takes a break to mend a limp/
I’ll twist my fingers deep within your mind to fuel your thought/
On your behalf I’ll bleed whether I’m deemed a fool or not/
On that stance
I’m not out asking for the polished work/
I’m passing out the tools to have when standing on this earth/
So let them turn up stainless hands
With mine I’ll upturn roots/
I’ll work within a spirit strewn
That few would dare to stoop/