The Wounded Hands

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Thinking of you makes me see the truth
Through the dusty storms of youth
The scares on my face tells no lies
Of the road once walked between two lines

I cry out your name in the gutters of shame
As disappointment overturned my game
The reflection in my pale blue eyes
Distorted images of the truth disguised

I hear your voice through the stormy rain
As the thunder lights up my broken shame
Your wounded hands reaching out to me
As your presence calmed my see

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Doesn’t matter what you go through in life......His wounded hands are always just waiting to calm your storm.

The Wounded Hands | Ecency