My hands are not red, <br />But they feel like they are. <br /> <br />My hands are not dirty or immoral, <br />But I think they are all the time. <br /> <br />My hands have not killed, nor raped, <br />But sometimes I think they have, <br />Without me. <br /> <br />Sometimes I wash my hands. <br />I try and clean them the best I can. <br />But I still feel the redness on them, <br />Their dirtiness, the scoundrels. <br /> <br />I don't know what they did. <br />I don't know how. <br />But they did something, and it was no fault of mine. <br /> <br />But I am to blame. <br />My hands are red. <br /> <br />And you may not see it, <br />But I know you know it's there.<br /><br />Lee Gelis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-hands-are-not-red/
