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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2129735
When David was inevitably crushed by Goliath, it was the Samaritan who pulled me free.
Year upon year,
all on my own,
a general,
a shield,
and a sword,
surrounded by those
who needed me most,
but alone—
when the need was my own.

I agreed to the fate,
thinking it right,
that I should pay back
what is due.
Deserving no help
and receiving none too,
I soon realized
what really— was true.

It was not about who
‘deserved’ it the most,
not who earned— my helping touch.
I looked to myself.
I saw what I did.
I helped those
who needed my crutch.

Then one dark day,
beaten and crushed,
Titans breaking my stand.
My campaign complete,
in final defeat,
I was saved—
by an outstretched hand.



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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2129735-The-Hand