The sky

The sky

I want to squeeze the sky.
So tight, so hard to the point of pain. Deep to tears.
When I shake someone's hand, I want my sky to give.
Everyone wants the sky. No one wants a hand!
Hands go to the sky!
A piece you have torn off with your hands! My hands are heavy.
They are empty. I am waiting!
Give me your hand! Do not waste the sky!