PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My sight for affection was gone,
I was blinded by much heartache;
Stood by my lonesome all alone,
Solitude was what I had to partake...

With hands tender as I,
You touched me as I initiated to cry.

My voice for rapture was lost,
I was muted by grave deception;
Bypassed each soul I crossed,
Animosity was my only reception…

With hands tender as I,
You soothed me as I begun to sigh.

My touch for comfort was through,
I was paralyzed by great malice;
Ignoring all the goodness one can do,
My ally became many lies so callous…

With hands tender as I,
You felt me as I started to try.