Extrovert

A piece each to all,
I have run out of talent
to reach all who ask.

Hurting hearts, needs burn.
Depression, loneliness reigns,
but I fall too short.

Invisible pain
leads me to compassionate
sympathy, empty.

I, never enough
sight to see all the way deep
into hearts crying soft.

Forgetful, I work
teach, love, run, drive, and give
no thought beyond me.

Unless it is here,
in front of my face, crying.
Asking point-blank, “Help!”

Eyes to see, ears hear,
my mind to perceive the cries
and answer in kind.

This is all I ask,
to better friend all others
than I do myself.

It is beyond me,
and I long for the day when
eyes are clear, complete.

Where I am, there I
am fully present indeed.
This is my core strength.

Out of sight, is it
out of mind too? I hope not.
But fear it too true.

A hopeless case, I?
A worthless friend to others?
Will I ever know?

I don’t think I am.
Caring deeply, I reach out.
I am not enough.

Hands are only two.
Omnipresent I am not.
I, only human.

I am not Jesus.
Just an extrovert trying
desperately hard.