My Cup Runneth Empty, a poem.

I tire, I toil, I exhaust myself.

I give, I offer, I extend.

I pour into others what I cannot do,

even for myself.

But when the day meets its end,

I am empty.

I take a break from the stress,

I try to relax, to let go.

I let my guard down, I burn.

Still, I don’t learn.

Perhaps I’ll go out,

find someone new.

But instead,

I’ll meet you.

You, who like me, walk around on e.

How can I deny you what you need?

It’s not your fault, nor is it mine.

All the trauma your demons left behind.

But I look in your eyes,

and I see your pain.

I’ll gather what support I managed to muster,

and send it your way.

I wish I could do more for you,

but I have so little left.

Emotionally, physically, mentally,

I’m now drained.

I let out my frustration with a sigh,

as I get inside my ride.

And head home,

emptier than before.