My hands

My hands know how to love a lady,
Touching her just right and driving her crazy.
They know how to build many things,
From the back deck to the swing in the tree.

My hands know how to hold my children when they cry,
They touch softly and have wiped many tears from their eyes.
My hands know how to greet a person with a firm hand shake,
They are full of love but yet full of so much strength.

My hands are my last weapon of defense,
They say war is not murder but they have seen Death.
My hands are covered in another mans blood,
Forgive me my father and let me be your son.