Arms

Arms are made for holding.

They make people comfortable.

They squeeze the pain out of you.

But what happens when the one

Your arms were accustomed to leaves?

Arms were made for reaching.

They were made for reaching for you.

They were made for making sure you never left.

They obviously didn’t do a very good job.

Arms were made for welcoming.

They were made for welcoming you back.

They were made for making sure you have a home

With me.

No matter what happens.

Arms were made for forgiving.