The broken shattered hand that reached out for trust and faith,
Put your faith in it, little ones, for it's all that remains,
And the more you try the less you recieve,
It can never be anyone's sweetest bitter dream.
The indecision, hover, waiting to make the right move,
The right time is irreplaceable even if you knew.
And so, glory to the cold-hearted cruel ones,
While we remain weak in the merciless chains of love,
But somehow we doubt that it is evil.
Raise your head up somehow, past the bounds of their jealousy,
Reach your hand high and up and out, waiting to see,
Because if you try the trust and faith route,
Then miracles are beyond destiny.
A poem written in the style of "Reflection" (another one of my poems). I'm pretty proud of it. It's more hopeful then "Reflection" is ;P
But I wish my dad could make up his mind...