The Poets Hand

There he stands
Holding out his hand
Finger extended

Tall, proud
Puffed up
Driven to lead

Patient, kind
Not like other men
The world passes by

He starts to perform
A little at first
A little more

Crescendo building
He is finding his voice
The world around him getting louder

Struggles to be seen,
Beckoning call to a queen
Hardly heard

The saga continues
this dance we call life
The drama

A man, on a quest
for true love
to find a real wife

He wants her hand
Not just for a one night stand