"The Finding"

They release a warm fuzz
That raises the hairs on my arms and neck
There is a kind of fizzing that travels to a smile
And for someone so honest
I cannot open my eyes

I dare not draw out my arms to a wide line
Not through fear of falling
But through fear of finally finding...

Looking into a dark part of my heart
And seeing those eyes replying
My body began to crawl double and all I wanted was my Mummy
I've always searched for a hand to hold
And now there's one palmed for me

I cannot stand on the edge and just walk away
That's not how the story has been
I am scared to be at the end of hunting
Because the found seems worse than the finding.




© 2007 Steven Pottle