Scapegoat

It is a natural instinct to care for yourself

before others. To hear things you want, to see things

you want, and to even believe the things you want

What does that make someone who cares for you
before himself. To listen to your problems, to see your pain, and 
to believe the lies and exaggerations you tell

When he has a problem, why do you run?
Why do you shy from the person who cares for you?
Why is it, when his demons appear, you are the one watching him burn?
Why must he brave this burden alone, to wither in your ashes?

What does that make him? 
A slave? 
A mindless creature? 
A soulless shield? 
A Scapegoat, nothing more.