The type of hands I need,
To grasp the things that I truly want.
Or has my potential just not been freed?
You take a seed and plant it into the soil,
And you wonder of the miracle of life.
To be an observer of human behaviour,
Your hands must be strong and light.
But mine now are not feeling much more than tired,
And frustrated at not being able to make,
The life they want despite a sincere effort.
They were born into the world, maybe, too late.
And it's alright,
The world changes all of the time.
That's what they mean when someone get's their break.
All one needs is to recognize the signs.