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Who holds your hand? Printable Version PRINTABLE VERSION
by Shireen, Malaysia Nov 15, 2004
  Poetry

  

What is your life about?
What is your heart saying?
If you have a moment,
Please stop and listen
Just give me this minute
I’ll not ask for another second

Its not who shares a laugh,
Its not about who shares the fun.
Who holds you when you cry?
Who waits all night till the tears dry?
It’s easy when your happy
Who stays when it is hard?

Its not who comes to the party
Who stays to pick up the crumbs?
Everyone plays the music,
But who sings your song?
When even you forget,
Who remembers your tune?

It’s not the person who is celebrated
It’s the person behind the celebration
Who have you forgotten?
Who have you shut out?
What are you willing to give up?
Who are you willing to let go?

When you cannot stand anymore
Who is the reason you stand your ground
And when the last blow knocks you down
Who stoops down to break your fall?
When your heart is in a thousand pieces
Who picks you up and tends to the bruises?

It’s not what you give up
Its the 'Who' you've given up
Be certain its worth it
For whatever its worth
Some moments come once, and
Some hearts refuse to be broken twice

You run after a life, but
Who makes you feel alive?
When you race after success
Who races with you, so
When you reach the end
What matters is who holds your hand





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Shireen


Being an Indian living in Malaysia, I am proud of the culture that envelops me. There is so much in me that reflects a different art of living and the fundamentals of just being caught up in moments.
I am grateful to God, to the universe, to my parents, grandparents and family for preserving the traditions in me. With a world racing to be modern and sophisticated, simplicity and culture is a fading treasure, eroding with the birth of new-found philosophy.
I do not believe I am any of the better writers. There are so many more talented people around me that I admire and I aspire to learn a lesson or two. I write, simply, so that the universe that inspires me will be better appreciated. I write so that the unique culture, values and rich tradition that I have inherited will at its very least be known to you.
We are all here for fleeting moments and there is so much to be done in such a short time. Too much to see, too many people to love.
I thank you for flipping through this page and taking the time to look at my poem. If it touched you in anyway, I am grateful in more ways than you can imagine.... Thank you everyone and I wish you well.
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