Your Hand in Mine

The following poem was written in late Winter 2011 when I was 16 years old, listening to Hans Zimmer’s “Time.” It won First Prize in the 2012 Young Poet’s Contest through the Reading Public Library. It was the first time I believed I could write meaningful words and phrases.

There’s a fine line between a coach and a player,

The President and a mayor,

A speech and hate speech,

Eve’s apple and a peach,

Speaking and preaching,

Brain washing and teaching,

A student and a psychopath,

Misplaced anger and focused wrath,

Tucson and Reading,

Steady beating and pulse is threading,

Flying and crashing,

Respecting and trashing.

There’s a fine line between purpose and reason,

Tyranny and treason,

Rebellion and revolution,

Temporary and a solution,

War and peace,

End and cease,

Fighting and murder,

A President and a Führer,

Guns and toys,

Girls and boys,

Right and wrong,

A battle cry and a song.

There’s a fine line between despondency and cheer,

Tranquility and fear,

Writing and venting,

Breaking and mending,

Day and night,

Crawling and flight,

What’s mine and what’s yours,

Walls and doors,

Love and lust,

Apprehension and trust,

This time and that time,

A way of life and a rhyme.

There’s a fine line between living and dying,

Happiness and crying,

Living life and playing it safe,

Having hope and having faith,

Believing and seeing,

Seeming and being,

Confusion and understanding,

Falling and standing,

Doing and wanting to,

Running from and running to,

Clutching and holding,

Lecturing and scolding.

There’s a fine line between accepting and discriminating,

Loving and hating,

Black and white,

Blind and sight,

What we do and what we say,

Being straight and being gay,

A code and a law,

An olive branch and a saw,

Cowardice and bravery,

Segregation and slavery,

A Muslim and a Jew,

Me and you.

Just put your hand in mine

And we’ll walk that line.

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