Compassion

There's a line between what we need and what we want,

Blurred by our own desires.

Everyday we ask for acceptence from others,

From the way we dress,

To the way we talk,

It's our way of asking.

Looking up with wide eyes and empty cups,

Begging to be filled to the brim,

Hearts wrenching to be overflowed.

We drink from our fragile cups, 

Selfishly sipping every last drop,

Left with dry, cracked lips. 

Only when the cup is shared,

And no longer filled with tainted liquid

But the crystal, honest, and clear water,

Passed around to whover is thirsty,

Is when our grip loosens on the cup,

Bodies satisfied and full.