Many Hands

Too many hands
in mine.

I can
barely keep my own
doing the right
and good things.

Sharp
but broken.

Sharp
but rough in the course I sail
or walk.

Every shining
bug, rock
or sunset takes me off and into
stopped time.

Stopped time
where peace be had
but is only mine
and the world
just keeps wondering where I've been
and why
oh why I haven't kept up.

Too many hands
waiting on mine.

Too into the small beauties
that should have made up this world
but really don't.

Can't focus
on career and accomplishment

seems
   so much work
to just have a good grave stone.

Just can't buy in,

helps so
to not have the money,
but still,

still can't get fully out from under the weight
of all the eyes that see what I can't do.

Let me go
let me go
let go.

Please
let go.

Please
my
oh my
let yourself go.

Too many hands
have the lesser mores of life
handled...

handled better than
I will ever
except maybe in my children's eyes

can't compete
and be anything more than another

but to be me
to be me
might just be something a touch more
than what I've been.

that no one
no one
else
no one else
can