When I feel I can’t stand the rain
I feel the edge of the line
Falling beneath the drain
And there is nowhere to dine
It is just a touch

With the temperature so high
My hormones so tense
And the forbidding thus nigh
It is beginning to make no sense
It is just a touch

Such a rough journey through the heavy storms
Then all hell loose
Reliving the crawling nature of the crippled worms
Wretched and dilapidated, none left to choose
It is just a touch

With my resilient gift, I am a blessing
Sacrifices and praises all day to God
Upon the hill of the brightness of birthing,
I kept on grounding
I was then presented with a large rod.
It is just a touch

I was left insensibly to bob
Plus monetary shame as well as emotional stress
When I reached a point of no redress
I was moved to sob
My problems was definitely one, to re address
It is just a touch

© Rowland Macaulay, August 2001
http://www.poetryupfront.co.uk