A Helping Hand
'Can I help?'
'Are you ok?'
Queries
I get every day.
'Want a hand'
Asks a flashing smile,
As my heart melts
Wishing I was younger
When such a hand
Would be grand
I'd have never let go.
'No thanks'
Is my reply,
A bloody lie,
Laced with regret,
As she passes by.
One day,
Soon I hope,
My princess
Will sweep me up
And,
Into the sunset
We'd disappear,
Her pushing,
A grateful me.
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