When I was drowning someone held my hand and pulled me up
Out of the waters I came tired, desolate and miserable
I was angry at the hands that saved me
Sweet and soft hands that tried to give me solace
I refused it. I rejected. I ran to fall again into another river
The hand yet again saved me
I was not angry
I was confused
I, who, did not deserve to live was saved over and over again
It had a meaning
The meaning was found deep in the core of my heart
The meaning was the hands that saved me
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1 Comment
October 18, 2009 at 5:38 pm
Wah !! Wah !! wah!!!