Lifelines

My hands, they help me.
They aren't just things on the end of my arms.
They are like lifelines, I use they everyday.
They push my body out of bed,
And rope in my wild mane.
Even now, they are helping me type.
My hands are never rewarded for their hard work.
They get dry from the cold weather,
And exhausted from continuous hours of labor.
Sometimes they tell me they are tired,
I tell them they must go on...

KZ