If you don’t think about the needy
You’re selfish.
Self entitled, far from selfless
You should want to help others
The homeless
The needy

But your mind crumbles
Under the thought
Of you could’ve easily been
A drug addicted woman
Separated from her family
Who realized no amount of love
Can push away an addicts love
For white lines and heated spoons.

So your depression isolates you.
Because you were so close to being her
But you end up with empathy
And empty pockets
With the heavy weight of knowing
There’s no way of helping
Someone who doesn’t want to be saved.