Hold my Hand

Golden eyes can be dark and at ease in a storm,
Look at her posture, just look at her form.
She moves with a modest stride,
Her face resembles great pride.
The others watch in awe,
Fascinated by what they saw.
She asked the love of her life, will you hold my hand?
He asked "why" and she answered,
"Because I cannot stand"
She awoke from her dream of waves and how they rippled,
She knew that her long legs were crippled.
How she wished she could dance for one last time.
She misses how dancing was now only a past time.

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