Poetry of a Blind Girl

we are the hand

We are the hand
the path that fate takes us on
isn't always paved
the effort that we put in to find ourselves
defines the sharpness of the blade
the sting of reality
the chances of being dismayed
it's all our decisions in the end
the way we want the game to be played
will we cheat?
Will we play by the rules?
Or shall we make our own?
Are we the line being drawn?
Or the hand holding the pencil?
If you had the choice
Would the street be your way?
The safe and secure busy streets
Where kindness is shown, people are buzzing
Shops and houses line surround a playground
Or would you venture
Into the dark isolated woods?
Where animals live in harmony, the music of nature drifts with the wind
Serenity and peace fills the air
Would you rather be;
Snuggled up indoors with a warm drink,
Buried within blankets , entertained with black lines on white pages, warm hugs
Or
Lounging outside, iced beverage in hand
Basking in the warmth of our star, laughing with company, playing with water
It's all our decision in the end
We are the hand
Which sometimes holds others'
Sometimes we colour by numbers
Sometimes we trace
But all in all
We are the hand.
9/11/2019