deepundergroundpoetry.com
Older Hands
There's an old caring hand that's desired.
Not firm or strong with control or guidance
But one that feels my every creak;
hears my every groan.
Sitting back and shooting the breeze
as I make my way.
Safe in the knowledge that any fears
or uprisings within
would be tackled before I hardly realised
they where developing.
Laid back, Catching some rays
With one eye on my happiness
Like a comfort blanket of love
To carry around
always.
Not firm or strong with control or guidance
But one that feels my every creak;
hears my every groan.
Sitting back and shooting the breeze
as I make my way.
Safe in the knowledge that any fears
or uprisings within
would be tackled before I hardly realised
they where developing.
Laid back, Catching some rays
With one eye on my happiness
Like a comfort blanket of love
To carry around
always.
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