"A helping hand is all we need, no matter the fright we can see. The others may not but I will seize.
I may find the sorrow underneath, from inner the bed I was once scared to under the blind and deaf of my sense.
A helping hand is what is needed, for not most but many more then me.
Me.
I will be fine like I say, I will boil until the day I am forced to let out the anger and hurt and stress I feel. I let it simmer until the heat has gone down.
I let it heat back up till the day it burst. The day it catches fire of the wooden hand that has been asking if I need help, after all the splinters that have been given to me. After all the false accusations.
After all the lies. When a helping hand is nothing but wooden and you are tired of the tiny splinters no one can see but yet you can feel, you end up wanted a real hand to help you out. Yet you can't differentiate the wooden and real.
So you'll get hurt either way.
When everything gets you down and you feel as if there is no one to turn too, just for help. You can turn to that wooden hand that's extended for your help. Because sometimes bad things hide the good. The things that wish to hurt us are nothing but thin layers till we reach the happiness of it all."- Analisse Rivera
