roses of the world

m o s c h a t a

Who the World Needs

Do you remember
when you wiped the stains
of dirt off the child's face
with your loving bare hands?
Hands that do not get warmed
and squeezed by them
dear to you with theirs
when you are freezing cold,
or to show you sympathy
when you are in fight
against the foes inside
and outside your body,
to let your all feel
they buck you up always.

How about the homeless
and feeble grandmother
in the eatery where
you savored your lunch
pleading for some food
to fill her empty stomach
that awaited day of His birth?
When the luster in your eyes
vanished from witnessing
how the fortunate souls
neglected the unfortunate one,
and suddenly the salty water
escaped from them
dampening the table's cloth;
sorrowful your eyes became.
Until her wrinkled and dry skin
you found yourself gently
holding as you were aiding
her tired body to sit;
a healthy meal
you did not hesitate to buy.
Who knows? Perchance
it was the greatest and only
Christmas gift she asked for.
You granted the grandma
her simple wish with those
eyes of yours they barely
bother to understand.

Can you tell the number
of penniless people who
were gushing tears
making the heartbreaking
testimonials in the news?
Begging not for instant golds
but hoping their heart would
connect with ours.
Children who desire to touch
new books but can not
and elders who long for the
embrace of their children
who abandoned them
with very frail bones.
I wonder if you are
still crossing your fingers
to become prosperous,
to hold checks as thick
as what you aspire to have
even if countless piles
of your sweat and tears
and a thousand pains
are just portions of the cost.
Praying, and dying
to make it happen,
not for your own glory
but for the rough palms,
wounded bodies, shattered
dreams and hurting souls
deprived of necessities
and sweet offerings of life.

You remember so well
the silent nights when you
cried hard in cold sheets
trying not to get heard,
but almost not the days
when you gave away your pieces
willingly and nothing mattered
that you got none in return.
You only remember
your alone and lonely days
when you felt more worthless
thinking of how you could
end your life smoothly,
and forgotten you are
a blessing to the world
for the heart functioning
in that body that cares
and loves nonstop
even if it gets broken
and taken for granted.
You are not just a human;
you are a hope,
and the world needs you.
'Tis difficult to be one
when devils are playing,
but lovely, trust me,
something priceless is
destined to wait for you;
just make yourself defeat them.
Your smile I would love to see
reaping what you deserve.
For the good and brave things
you have done so far,
with so much respect
here I am commending
and asking you;
let that selfless heart
continue to beat.