The scaly fingertip. 

The tips of my fingertips have been
Used until they have been overused.
The papers I behold with my fingers all
Day have led to the disappearance of
My identity, in a way. My uniqueness has diminished to a point where it is no longer unique. I trace the tips in
a rhythmic fashion until this motion tires me out and my mind wanders to arbitrary trips to the grocery store to buy eggs and milk. As my eyes close on their own accord, I dream of insane things.

Note to readers-This poem is primarily based on the scientific fact that your fingerprints start fading as you age and faster when you handle lots of paper or lime.

Your welcome. I know you like it when i tell you facts out of the blue.

I hope you have a great day. Spread smiles!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s