Arms

I count arms as a privelege as well as good words Hands are my advocate, and clearly, you're not, through the sand and sadness a good keeper of my heart I'm not a thing to fold or be sold to your casual touch Who are YOU to mold me to bind me, to stand in my way My father is the sun and yet you've not seen your eyes are intact your head is erect your mouth ablaze You say sand is worthy But I see the rock from whence it came I've kept my mouth shut But today I will fight It's time for the king to reclaim his crown my mouth, my life