To them I cherish I give hope,
Gentle suggestions for them to cope,
I analyse and advice,
Or I just listen until they tire.
I know of things that must be done,
What people want to hear and when,
I try to be honest and help,
Even when my hands can only pat a back.
I feel like I know what people need,
I don’t want to claim so but I try.
However it is irritating,
To know none of it applies to me.
I talk to people and share my thoughts,
From things I experienced or things I’ve read,
Still there are times I wished,
That I remained silent and unheard.
I wish to help but can’t help myself,
When I whine I reprimand myself,
“No one wants to hear it so shut it,
It’s your problem so bear it.”
I don’t know what to say,
To myself when I am this way,
I might be in trouble but I won’t complain,
When complaining makes me feel like such a pain.