All my life I've tried to provide for others
I've kept trying to put people back together;
I ride the tide of their most stormy weather,
but I have yet to actually make anyone better.

I failed because I never knew where to begin.
I learned over time we must heal ourselves within
before helping broken people as a mission
but even that simple beginning, I can't win.

Shattered into pieces, I know not how many years,
only that I cannot remember a time without tears.
The struggle is more than real, it's all my fears
and there's total misunderstanding amongst peers.

All I ever wanted was to make another whole,
to reach out to someone and fix their broken soul.
It was foolish of me to try and it has taken a toll
leaving me empty, miserable and with no goal.

I don't think I can ever mend myself right,
I keep trying, but I never win the fight.
Every now and then I think I see the light
only to watch it dissipate into the night.

I stay awake thinking deeply about our world
and how I am merely but one broken girl
searching through waste, looking for a pearl
but whisked away in defeat as it whirls.

If I can't save myself, or anyone at all,
I'm not sure I'll ever be able to stand tall.
I will weep until the day I crumble and fall,
knowing I couldn't change a thing, nothing at all.