Email Poem

Your IP Address: 13.59.156.144
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
True generosity isn’t measured by what we give with ease,
but by what we sacrifice in silence, unseen,
when the help we offer strips something from us.
It’s easy to be generous when nothing is lost—
almost comfortable.
But reaching out when everything is trembling,
that’s when the heart speaks, not the mind.
Being there without calculation,
acting without hesitation because we love,
because we know pain,
because someone’s absence would hurt more than the effort itself.
I gave everything.
Without counting.
Without expecting anything back.
Now, I’m alone.
And those I carried let me fall—
even my own children erased me.
Maybe they’ll remember,
one day.
But I no longer wait.
Too often, those we support
forget we were bleeding too.
They weren’t there when it was their turn,
Being kind becomes a risk.
Giving too much leaves you exposed.
And in a world where ingratitude thrives,
love becomes a weakness to be exploited.
I regret nothing,
but I see it now:
some take
and never look back.
Maybe this time is sick.
Maybe roles are blurred.
But me—
I keep loving,
even the absent ones.
They took me for granted,
as if my kindness were an endless debt,
a faucet they turned on without a glance at the clock,
without remembering they ever drank.
I realized too late
that some only stayed while the dark scared them,
and once they were warm,
they left without a thank you.
But I haven’t changed.
I am who I am—
not a bank,
not a shelter for the passing,
but a human being
who believed that giving
was self-evident.
Today, I expect nothing.
No gesture, no hand.
Just a bit of peace,
and the dignity of never betraying who I am.
Poverty didn’t steal my soul,
ingratitude didn’t strip me of my values.
I’m still standing,
not with arrogant pride,
not under any flag,
but with that strange strength
of those who fall
and keep loving.
Because you don’t change your essence,
even when the world tramples it.
Because love isn’t begged for—
it’s given.
And when there’s no one left to receive it,
you keep it
so you don’t lose yourself.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required