This Hand is My Hand

by Bruce Lansky
(sing to the tune of “This Land is My Land”)

This hand is my hand.
It isn’t your hand.
The thought of your touch
is what I can’t stand.
And being near you
is not what I planned.
This hand was made for me, not you.

This hair is my hair.
It isn’t your hair.
My hair is one thing
that I will not share.
So if you touch it
my friends will all stare.
This hair was made for me, not you.

These cheeks are my cheeks.
They are not your cheeks.
So please don’t kiss them,
beacuse your breath reeks.
I’d rather be kissed
by twenty math geeks.
These cheeks were made for me, not you.

These lips are my lips.
They are not your lips.
I’ll never kiss you,
because your nose drips.
If you get near me,
I’ll do ten backflips.
These lips were made for me, not you.

Text © Bruce Lansky, reprinted from Oh My Darling, Porcupine, published by Meadowbrook Press. Illustration © Stephen Carpenter. Any copying or use of this poem or illustration without consent is unlawful.

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