Grab Hold

With crimson cheeks and a downward glance,
He's a passerby with a timid stance.
Poverty stricken for having paid the price.
Asked for her forgiveness ne'er to ask it twice.
For a broken spirit, sadly, there is no cast.
Time tries in vain, but it cannot heal his past.
Trudging through the mire, the cold bites him to the bone.
Shivering and lowly, he suffers all alone.
People glare at him as though he were a plague.
Some show concern; other's intentions are vague.
A familiar voice suddenly fills his dulled ears.
He searches through the onlookers unaffected by their stares.
She reaches out her hand begging him to grab hold.
Looking down in disbelief for they have both grown so old.
Forgiveness should have come sooner for his heart truly was contrite.
Yet anger was the victor pushing their love out of sight.
At last she speaks with tears welling in both of their eyes.
"Come home", she says. "My heart has finally heard your cries".