My door is always open
My kettle is always on
I’m here with a shoulder
For you to cry upon
You can tell me anything
Your secrets I can keep
You can phone me anytime, day or night
Even when I am asleep
If you live in solitude
Or your heart is filled with grief
If you suffer from low self-esteem
I can build your self-belief
I am everybody’s rock
But who is there for me?
Who cares for the carer?
I think you will agree
The more you do for others,
The less they do for you
It's the way society is now
But that is just my view
-
Author:
jenny1959 (
Offline) - Published: January 27th, 2017 10:34
- Comment from author about the poem: This is a poem about how a person can be taken for granted.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments3
Your words ring true, great write
Maybe this isn't exactly about what your poem is about but seriously there serious problems with the caretakers of very ill people. Like Altsheimers disease. It is very demanding. Nicely done.
and you are absolutely right
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.