The little one runs, cries,
“Why must life be so hard? Why?
Daddy, help me! Daddy! Daddy!
The World is hurting me, again; won’t you get onto Him?
He only laughs when I cry, only mocks me. Daddy, why?
Daddy, hug me! Help me! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!
He thinks it’s wonderful when I fear; He tells me that You are not here.
He hopes he can make me believe that You will soon pick up and leave.
Daddy, hold me! Hug me! Help me! Daddy! Daddy!
He paints the future dark, and shouts, “Your Dad will break your heart.”
He bids me worry, never trust, for then my dreams might turn to dust.
Daddy, hear me! Hold me! Hug me! Help me! Daddy!”
But then you speak, I know I am
Covered With Your Hand:
Heard, hugged,
Held, helped,
Safe.
*** This poem was originally created in the shape of a hand, but the formatting would not remain once transferred to the blog.
