The Hand

Located at the end, of every arm;

On this earth for every creature and man

I write for you, and most times read for you;

Play for you, there are so many things I do

Making many of you famous, with skill;

Prosperous future of some I reveal

I speak for many of those who cannot;

For the words I’ll find, as I move a lot

Closing myself in sign, to show anger;

Raising in time of peace, to free from war

Putting thumbs down, show I’m not in favour;

And by the roadside free ride I beg for

My posture, the words I am gesticulating

The thoughts through my actions, you are seeing

Without me many are handicapped;

With that they will all have to adapt

A situation to overcome;

With hard work and determination

I explore and so judge by the touch;

Conscious of surroundings all by touch

What I possess are my stretched out friends;

Digit of five sensitive endings

Thumb, index, middle, ring and pinkie

Holding in possession when ready

In knowing my master I’m quite useful;

Print any five, they are always truthful

I’m built of twenty-seven white bones;

With the comfort movements, on my own

Carpals called the wrist holds me to the arm;

With radius and ulna stretched arm-stand

Community of eight stays together;

Making me move, as I so desire

Narvicular, Pisiform and Lunate;

Triangular, Capitate and Namate;

And my Multangulars are well in tact

With face well written; and hair on my back

Flexible cords and muscles of strong wall;

Gets me in motion with my approval

Stretching out I contract my hairy back;

Enclosed like a ball, inside I contract

With claws of keratin of growing tips;

I ease with a scratch, pain of every itch

Never confuse me to be the feet;

For any animal you may meet

Stuck in front like moles, on their forelimbs

I do my tasks of so many things

Being short and thick, for tunnel digging;

When they are breaking up ground and scooping

I’m wing, network skin between fingers;

Stuck to a mouse that is my master

Wing, Phalanges and Metacarpals;

To the flying feathered animals

I am flipper, an expert swimmer

Flat paddle, from bones fused together

If I am gone, they will all miss me;

The efficient one, friend of slavery