Tired hand

"Grandad will you write for me?
The way you used to do?
Tell me stories, secret ones
From so long ago."

His sighs are not apparent
To the anxious pretty girl.

Tensions pulling;
Weighing down
a soft heart and tired hand.

"Grandad will you write for me?
Tell me of Nan again?
I'm struggling to remember her
From so long ago."