OCR Text |
Show WITH OPEN HANDS My world is this: Abrasive wearing down Of childhood affirmations given me That love was plentiful--no thorny crown Of pain, no tears and no catastrophe. Time has an acrid, devastating way Of dissipating ample hours to thin Starved minutes bringing days of pain--a grey Existence changed from gold to tarnished tin. Returning to my past, I memorize The years, how with an open hand you held Me tight, how with a touch and whispered sighs You gave me life and love unparalleled. I need that youthful land once more, and then Perhaps I'll learn to smile and love again. |