Two Hands

It's not much,
But it's starting to look like all I have,
Two hands to hold on to this spinning planet,
This bucking lifeform,
Screams that it's had enough of this,
Too much shit already,
What would you contribute?
Who would you benefit?
Not near enough to satisfy,
You subside and you make do,
With all of the shades you will never live out,
Because your two hands cover your face,
And you still see what's coming,
Right through to passing you by,
These things,
Voices,
Come with the night in invisible packages,
Left on my doorstep like bastard children,
My own creations,
And mine to keep or cast,
It is bloody business,
Ripping these leeches from my body with two hands,
Holding on to what hope I can still produce and retain,
Advancing forward with giant's laden steps,
A long way remains,
So I will grasp each and every moment as if I would never have it pass,
With two hands.