The Hand that Loves
Never dries my tears
Quick to stir my fears
Never a soft caress
Quick to rip my dress
This is the Hand that loves me
Never strokes my hair
But yanks it without care
Never reaches out
But likes to knock me down
This is the hand that loves me
Never wants to comfort
But pleased in making me hurt
Never does it soothe
But quick to leave a bruise
This is the hand that loves me
Never brings me luck
Succeeds in making me duck
Never helps me win at all
Always pulls back when I fall
This is the hand that I drew....It was the hand of you.
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