Futility at its finest (Poetry)

It kills me to see my

Friends in pieces.

I just wish that maybe one day,

A smile will be enough to whisk

All their problems away.

It’s wishful thinking, I know,

But my patience is about to

Implode ‘cause I pray constantly

And that will never be enough

Because I am to shame and

The rest of you are so lost.

So I think that maybe, if I keep my

Distance things won’t be so bad

But then I keep trailing back

To this point, where I look out for the

Downtrodden because I am a most

Wretched empath.

I can’t help it, it kills me, but I

Need to reach out to the broken and

I don’t care if I’m in pieces

Alongside the others.

If I can help, I can help, and

I’ll do it ‘til I’m rotten.

Oh, and I swear it’ll destroy me

And eat me inside like the

Parasitic complex that I’ll harbour

Until the day I die but at least

I’ll save another, and use my

Blood as an adherer and slowly

Piece a shattered people

Back together.