The Hand

crying womanThe hand
that punched her face with force
That ripped her hair from painful roots
That grasped her throat in throttling rage
That pushed the knife against her skin
That beat from her the love he gave
That left a bleeding crippled heart

Was once
the hand that led her safe
From walls of shadowed debutantes
Onto a glittered dancing floor of dreams
And placed upon her finger fast
With promised joy and happiness
A band of golden love for evermore

Copyright © 2002 Terry Stephen Driscoll • All rights reserved.