You have wounds,
Open and bleeding.
But your eyes only see others.They're struggling,
They're asking,
but not asking;
For help.
All at the same time.Before covering your own,
You run.
You run over
To those in need.
Offering your hand;
Like a moth to a flame.Offering your help,
Like a mother to her child.Each person taking your energy.
The energy you need to stay up.
Each person taking it
And taking it..Not noticing that you, too,
Are bleeding out.
But they keep taking your offer
And your blood is running thin.
But you..
You just keep offering.
You keep offering, until one day,
You pass out
From all the loss.
All the loss of the blood from your wounds.
And when you wake,
You'd think you would stop?
But no...
You apologize.
Why do you apologize?
You apologize...for getting blood on their clothes.
You apologize for blacking out.
You apologize...for anything.
Everything, except for..
For not helping yourself, beforehand...
Like you should have done...
in the first place.
~ B.M.D ~
YOU ARE READING
Everything Is A Form Of Art
PoetryThe best way I know how to express how I feel; With words. ~ by B.M.D. A.k.a ~ Bloopsque A.k.a ~ ItamiTheSaiyan A.k.a ~ Me