Holding a hand so small not paying attention
When did it slip away it wasn’t my intention at all
So much noise in my head muting it out to stop the pain
The cries for help go unheard leaving needed words unsaid
Will anyone see the pith that stumbled on embedded debris
In the far corners a familiar conscience still holds
Who do I blame for what I could not see
Is it to late to let go of that shadow that’s not my own
What will come of what was done
Stand up – walk on – brush off your knee
That little hand has endured, looking down, I see it’s mine and yours