The joys and perils of giving ( A small poem)

Giving is truly a joy,

When desires not the other.

For the man who is happy in himself,

Is indeed a worthy soul of high character.

He neither has expectations,

Nor will burden another.

 

The joy can easily turn into pain,

On offering to even a gentle, yet craving soul.

That’s when you hear folks often yell:

‘Oh, you give them an inch,

And they want an ell!’

 

Yet, I say, with all the joys,

A decent soul can bring,

The rose is definitely worth,

Its occassional thorns.

 

But heavens protect you dear,

If you offer even goodwill,

To the cold, dominating and calculating eyes.

Very sweetly, they will charm you,

Into some treacherous social bond.

 

Then, using your benevolence and noble feelings,

They will tower over you,

Demanding you live for theirs

And their collective’s sake.

 

In this fashion dear,

They will feed on you,

Till the last drop of life,

Dries in you.

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