Hand's

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  • Life

    Poem Commentary

    my sister was writing this poem and  thought that it would be a good 1 for me

    Hand's

     I haven't forgotten
    That I am just one person,
    That I am but one voice
    Attempting to stand out
    From the crowd.

    I remember
    That I have fallen
    Amidst the laughter
    That surrounds me, and that sometimes
    It gets too loud.

    I know
    That I can't sit here
    And expect my silence
    To evoke change
    Without reason.

    I can see
    That I don't know everything,
    That I can't expect
    My hand to be held
    Always.

    I can feel
    That time is slipping
    By me, that it
    Will be gone if I just
    Stand still.

    I have heard
    That there are a million
    Other voices that sound
    Like mine, that want also
    To be heard.

    I've been told
    That it's not enough to
    Wish for dreams, that I
    Have to work them
    Into reality.

    I know that I don't know
    All that I think I know.
    I know I won't see all of
    The places I wish to go.
    I know I'm not ready
    For all that the world demands,
    You don't have to always hold me,
    Just let me see your hands.

    I know
    That there's a lot
    That I won't understand,
    That you don't have all
    Of the answers.

    I haven't forgotten
    That I have to grow up
    And someday live without
    Your voice, your opinion--
    Making my own decisions.

    I know that I don't know
    All that I think I know.
    I know that I may not see all
    Of the places I want to someday go.
    I know I'm not ready for everything
    That I won't always understand
    You don't have to always hold me
    But sometimes. . .
    Just let me touch your
    Hand.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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