COMPASSION

COMPASSION

By Keesa Wynne

Why do I always let others cash in?

Yet I always ration self-compassion?

I never cast shame, I try to blunt their self-blame,

Yet shockingly for myself, I never do the same. 

For their suffering, my heart aches and bleeds,

Yet that same heart attacks itself for having basic needs.

When will I learn that I do not have to barter?

When will I learn there is no glory found in being a martyr?

Love is not sacrificing one's self to save them. 

Love is not standing on depression’s brim.

Love is simply helping them temporarily lift their boulder.

Love is standing there with them, shoulder to shoulder.

But, to love them, I must love and value myself first.

I can’t water them, if I myself am desperately dying of thirst.

See, one’s worth is not found in passing life’s tests;

Self-worth isn’t buried in a secret treasure chest.

God imparted one’s worth with that very first breath;

Worth is one’s divine birthright until one bravely meets death.

So, I will no longer allow myself to drown

In self-pity; for there is no worth there to be found.

I have rediscovered what my soul already knew to be true;

Compassion does not mean I sacrifice myself to save you. 

Compassion is simply helping one stand guard

And reminding them life will not always be this hard.