~*¤*~
When I was cold and quivering,
You didn't laugh at my drenched misery.
You didn't push me back in the rain.
No condescending smirk
No sadistic pleasure,
No euphemistic falsities,
Just a warm scarf 'round my neck.
Warm like your genuine laugh,
Like your good natured jokes.
Warm like your simple playful eyes.
You took my hand when no one did.
When no one could.
When I doubted myself,
You didn't doubt me.
My trembling hands,
My hesitant words,
My creased brows-
Your reassuring smile.
You held my hand to show me-
That I could walk myself,
When- when I'd forgotten how to stand.
Without a touch,
You raised my chin-
My head high once more,
By just that one gesture.
That brief grip, brief support,
That brief serendipidy.
And being mere acquaintances,
Almost feels like a mistake by destiny-
Somehow a bittersweet tragedy..
~*¤*~
A/N: Please VOTE if you liked this poem.. ❤❤❤
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Cottage Chronicles
PoetryLife's chronicles from love, sorrow, anger, guilt, shame, happiness buried in a poetic cipher. Would you like some words and wine, on wooden floorboards? ©️ Feronia Grey
