Your Hand Holding Mine
By Amelie S
Published 27 September 2018
Sorry
I don't talk to you anymore
Or take you places
When I first held you
You were glued to my hands
I was yours
And you were mine.
As rough as a storm
Your wooden crust
Your curves and size
Fit like a hand holding mine.
I miss the jingle of your bell
It used to comfort me so well
Now you're covered in dust
And keeping all of our lost adventures.