This feeling When I’m being carried by a hand steady and claimed My heart sings of nothing but glee But will i be enough for a lifetime? Will he be pleased?
As he persuades me to sit I fixate on a box lying on the middle of the street My mind wanders on what it could be?
A puppy? Some money? A Mystery? Or Some dream?
I leave the hand that carried me I walk to the box and kick it because
The moment I was not carried by his hand I strayed to see what could’ve been When all along
His hand is what I need.