Caring Hands
Caring hands massage my body and soul,
rejuvenating hope with a mere touch:
she is an Angel; she helps me so much.
And every day, as we take a short stroll,
she makes me believe I'll achieve my goal.
In time, I'll no longer require a crutch,
or at least, I will have less need for such
thanks to my nurse; I'll once again feel whole.
Her determination forces me on,
torturously rubbing my legs each day.
She'll taunt and bully me if I resist,
demanding I work the pain, till it's gone.
And despite my screams, she'll not back away,
but, instead, will mercilessly insist.
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