an attempt at poetry with rhyme, about people who use you unitl there is nothing left. |
A million hands reaching they pull at my heart. I’m trying to help you, but how can I start, When my soul is broken, my heart in reprieve, How can I help you, when I can’t help me? Asking quite soundly for help and advice, I feel bad for declining, I can’t always be nice. I want to help you sincerely I do. But sometimes, just sometimes, I need help from you. Selfish and greedy you pull at my seams, “Help me I need you”, plagues all my dreams. How am I meant to help everyone else? When I can just barley take care of myself. So I ask you quite nicely to just let me be, I can’t always help you, can’t you help me? I love you to pieces, and as soon as I may,. I will fix all your problems, I’ll take them away But right now I need you and none of you care. Why is it that I must always be there? I pick you up when you’re on the ground, But you walk right by me when I need to be found. Careless, frustrating, heartless and cruel, Yet I keep on giving I must be a fool. But I will keep helping till I have nothing left, Perhaps then you all, will feel some regret. |