Tiny Hands

There used to be so many of my
Fingerprints to see,
On the furniture and walls and things
From sticky, grubby me
But if you stop and think a while
You'll see I'm growing fast,
Those tiny hand prints disappear,
You can't bring back what's past.
So here's a small reminder,
To keep, not wipe away,
Of tiny hands and how they looked,
To make you smile some day.