A THUMPING LITTLE EXPERIENCE…

Our body, Oh! a machine with resounding horsepower,

Our every organ, small or big, its role cut to perfection.

Hands in use, singly or in unison countless times  daily,

Knew their anatomy, missed their emotional pathway.

 

Their ego, stirred up for wrong reasons one fine morn,

Keen to hear their  gossip, kept my ears close to them,

Big brother of them, Thumb, full of beans, all in pride,

Reasons to say so, short and stout, can look up even.

 

Moves in right angles than others majestically in style,

Makes an impact over others while shaking hands too.

Can caress the rest in grace, gaining  more plus points,

The other four fail, still unable to grace the thumb.   

 

Now the index finger fumes, differing in its opinion,

Longer and straight, always looking ahead helps many,

Guiding the way, pointing to things of interest, for help,

It claims handsomeness, often defied by the rest

 

Middle finger speaks, the taller of the lot, majestic too,

Bends freely, giving the hand the needed stability

Mingling  effortlessly with all, forms a strong unit,

Beaming in its  greatness, sighing in triumph ever .

 

The Ring finger now boasts, unique among them all.

Truly, named, a favorite adorned by men and women,

Gold, diamonds, platinum rings, indeed symbols of love,

Dazzling always from this singular noble bearer.

 

Nothing to flaunt, smallest and leanest of the group,

The Little finger lacks tall claims to boost its presence,

In reverse gear, the first to meet in greetings and prayers,

 It outscores all, a silent leader in reverence.

 

Amidst the ruffles of these small yet vital organs,

Notice those who lost their hands in trauma or defects,

United, they stand powerful, to lift or resist any force,

Divided, they falter, unable to serve when needed most.