An Armless Hand

On marking his shirt over the shoulders Shrugged off, Just the shirt over I just saw him of being without the hand, Oh, without the hand And felt sorry for the man armless, Perhaps would have lost in the accident, The shirt hand hanging down in show And the hand is not within, Prompting me to avoid and avert the face And the gaze of his Felt pity for with a very heavy heart of mine, Feeling sorry for Not a hand within the shirt And the shirt hanging by handlessly But a little later To my astonishment saw I the one hand Hanging within, Under the shirt And the shirt just propped over And he saying, it’s my style An armless hand writing, Putting signature on And it’s not my style!