Take note of those clasped hands
Are these hands of ‘goodbye’ or ‘hello’,
Hands in which I had helped or
Hands that had hoped to help me
Hands that raise in confidence,
when one knows the answer or
Hands that lifted in defeat
When it proved to be the last resort
Those cold hands on a winter night,
that reach out for me if only to steal heat
or hands that sweat when you're trying
Your best to not display you're nervous
No matter the history of those hands,
You'll always need a hand to hold or
A hand to lift you up when you fall
And so I offer mine, please take it.
YOU ARE READING
Dedicated to the Words
PoesíaA series of random pieces put in one place. I like to think that there's nothing more exciting than the roller coaster of life. Some pieces may be very sad but I enjoyed writing them and I hope you enjoy reading them. Please vote, share, and comment...
