The Condition of Sandpaper

My hands feel like sandpaper

bristling at every contact

with this strange world,

its magnitudes increasing

every day,

as I slept each night

more frightening it became-

This strange world

I try to be a part off.


My lion helped me for a bit,

but then he too was a scaredy cat

albeit more determined than me

to conquer them frights-

and off he went leaving his heart

behind in my care

to find his adventure.


And here I still lie

sandpaper feels in a gloomy rut.


Alpha helps every time

but in between her life and

all who awaits her help

my number often comes too late

and help is not what is for me.


I know what must be

for sandpaper to become silk.

Breathe and Dream

and all will be.

I must not worry.

I must not fear.

My friends wait for me

at the path,

wait for me to move on.


All that love will transform

into love for me

and then sandpaper shall be the

farthest I ever feel.


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