I'm not quite sure how I got here,
Or why your stare makes fear feel safe.
It's like you can read the aura of me,
But maybe you just read my face.

You cling on tightly to my hand,
And search for secrets in it's embrace.
But, you'll find no truth in reading my palm,
It's all written upon my face.

I'm not courageous, and nor am I bold.
But hey, at least I've got your hand to hold.