spilleronsheet

Invisible hands

As time passes 

March upon March comes to end 

April creeps 

with spring turning into warmth 

 

anxiety slumbers

anxiety crumbles 

Yet anxiety mumbles 

 

watching above 

the invisible hands 

not only Adam Smith 

‘but those fairies beside 

 

the angels who hide 

pushes me beside 

like waves on ocean 

like breeze on summery nights 

the invisible hands 

protect me on time 

 

maybe 

or maybe not 

we get addicted 

to invisible hands 

Cheering behind 

 

looking out for invisible hands inside