Poetry:  An Open Hand

An Open Hand

You, the one, I did adore,

The one that proved life held more,

I held out my hand,

An open hand,

Did you ever caress it with your love?

Or did you treat it like a lifeless glove?

I held out my hand,

An open hand,

Did you respect it when it worked, for your joy?

Or did you think it a puppet, or mindless toy?

I held out my hand,

An open hand,

Did you enjoy, it’s innocent, gentle touch?

Or shrink away, as from a demon’s clutch?

I held out my hand,

An open hand,

It became clear that you, didn’t care,

You left that hand alone, afraid, and bare,

I held out my hand,

An open hand,

Yet through it all, I heard your breath,

That breath that ordered an innocent’s death,

I held out my hand,

An open hand,

That breath, which maimed me, no longer could I stand,

So why is that I never took back that hand?

I held out my hand,

An open hand,

The reason came from my heart’s stopping,