Little Hands

Little hands as pure and innocent as can be reaching out to grab me.

With the daunting little voice that comes from behind but cannot always tell me what's in his mind.

Some days can be such a struggle, but he knows he can come to snuggle

as I wipe and kiss away his tears, knowing there are so many more years

to protect him and fight for his right when everyone else loses sight

Of how it was once like to be three and carefree.

Except he is wired differently.

As I guide him through the years, I know I will shed many more tears but

in the end, it was him

That shown me another way to make it through the day.

It's crazy to think how such little hands can mean so much, but these little hands I love a bunch.