She and the Hand

I can't tell if she won't tell


'Cause she couldn't tell, shouldn't tell, or just wouldn't tell


Even if it'd help her


She could go for shelter


But she's too bottled up


To shatter the walls


And make her horizons expand


Hope is far from given up


But the story expands


She's troubled in that bottle


There's a problem brewing within


And it's pretty hard to settle


When one reaches their hand in


To get her out those confines


She sends that hand back empty


And says what goes in won't go outside


And the hand knows it's a nuisance


Because in it keeps reaching


And at times to pull her out


It resorts to beseeching


Because the hand in a nagger that can't respect it's limits


And when it cares for something, the hand attempts to be coherent


So she can shoo the hand within that bottle as the day's spent


Time isn't of the essence; the hand is really patient.