Fingerprints…


It's all over me and inside me,
From the uppermost layers of dead cells of my skin,
To the innermost dark caves of my soul,
From birth to till this age,
All those fingerprints had made me,
And moulded me.

The tapping hands on my back when I was born to make me breath,
The soothing ones when I cried,
The loving touch of my mother and father,
And the caring ones of my beloved grandparents.

The naughty ones of my little brother who pulled my hair during fights,
Teachers who gave their blessings on my head,
The friends who loved to hold my hands and hug,
And the family next-door who gave me food when my parents were not at home.

The touch of a person who I loved the most,
The words of the same which made prints on my heart and soul,
The people who disgraced me for who I'm,
The hands which tore me inside out.

The little fingers which aroused all my motherly instincts,
To love and to care without any conditions,
To be strong against all the evils when it's needed,
To find happiness and be hopeful about the future.

The person who left me hanging on the thread,
The people who ruined everything what was left,
The hands which shattered everything one after another,
To destroy my life and to crush my spirit.

All those fingerprints in my life,
Taught me how to be a human,
To be brave and vulnerable at the same time,
To be positive when I find negativity all outside,
To smile and be kind to someone who is being unkind.

-JMJ

36 thoughts on “Fingerprints…

  1. A very powerful poem, Joyce! Each line could be pondered alone. “To be brave and vulnerable at the same time,” — there is a paradox and bittersweet to life’s experiences that you’ve captured beautifully.

    Liked by 2 people

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