His hands are very different from mine.

They are soft, without a wrinkle in sight,

His skin is perfectly smooth,

One could even say he glows.

He wears rings bedazzled with jewels,

Never forgetting to display them.

Then there is my hands and I,

They are rough and covered in dirt,

My skin is marred with scars,

The only ring I wear is the one we share

On our ring fingers to the left.

His hands stil...

They say I am a Dove of Peace,

That I sit and rest on an Olive Branch.

That I am a symbol unity and hope.

The humans talk of me with such wonder;

With stars in their eyes they hope to see me,

While they light fires and reap chaos.

I shall not show myself to those who lie

And cheat

And work towards war, not peace.

They say that they don’t want

War and death and fighting.

They reach out to touch ...