I Don't Have A Title To Any Of My Poem Poem by Madoris Wolbellward

Look - there is a pair of hands on your thin hopeless sholder.
Maybe they love you, maybe this hands you love.
Hands move, create and hug, and wash The tears away.
Sometimes one little touch is flag, that keeps head high all day.
They touch a tiny blossom of your heart -
Believe that since today it'll never tears apart.
Though they can't get away the darkness from your soul,
Their moving brings with warm and tender in it hope.
With all your mind you're wishing that they came to stay,
But till they here now, don't matter - always or for just a day.
Please, stay with me. Keep my eyes dry, don't be the cause they wet.
This feeling all I ever need, I bet.