A Hand

Nothing poetic was ever written, But I alwsys thought of it as a vision I look for my brain's talent everyday in depth Looking for a hand for help Enviornment simple minded and basic Poetry, some love it, some hate it Young Poragatory hearts in my face Not waking up to slow down the pace A hand was never there for their taking Resulting their hearts growing up helpful It let me open the door for potential because the negative veiwed it just as a pencil they were in line already for failure But their motivation helped me, for the better So, With out my right hand My thoughts would've drained fast as quicksand I could've taken the easy way out But the hard way grew my sprout.