Kind, it’s how I am in nature, to the fellow man, to my colleagues and peers,
Smiling, humble, not better, not worse, just kind enough to give input from the heart,
Helpful, lending a hand where needed if can, standing alongside when the rough times come,
Sharing an ear for the weary, the uncertain, the needing, and the ones I call my friends,
I have bent backwards, dirtied my hands, and stained my name to help,
Patience has grown thin, the sun light fainting dim, and I’m going on a whim,
This therapist, this ear of all hearing, this shoulder of tears, this heart that holds secrets,
Has it not been there repeatedly without fail? Has it not been the crutch? Yet it never seems to be enough…
How would the world I know react, if I quit being so kind?
If I said to go talk to someone else, or to forget about me when you have a problem and need to speak,
How would it feel to be left on the cliff waiting, no ride, no destination, nobody around to keep your sanity?
In the end, it doesn’t even matter; ashes to ashes, dust to dust; the truth…
To be kind… nevermore.