Tales of hand

The hand offers and withdraws,
Knowing its limitations just.
Why can't it help a human slow,
It asks with a curtly bow.
It cuts life into pieces galore,
Offering nothing but grimace.
It feels for the beggar on the road,
Yet feels more for own pocket.
It trembles while blessing young,
Who says it is extremely strong.
It curtails the freedom of heart,
Yet wants to liberate from its sin.
The hand offers and withdraws,
For lack of voice in its support.
Belligerent it marches proudly,
In triumph,yet in unknown disgust.