We tell ourselves that
We will do unto others
As they do unto us
Because we're tired
Of being good
To those who wish bad unto us
We consider being nice
But lately nice
Means foolish
And we don't want
To look like fools
Yes, people laugh when
You constantly break
Your back for someone
Who folds their arms
When you need them
We forget
We are clouds carrying rain
Our job is pour ourselves
Unto others
Our job is to bless others
But we often choose
To hoard our water
Because not everyone
Will be happy
To see us rain
And it is strange
That sometimes
Those in need of help
Repay us with insults
Or later on badmouth us
When we do offer them our help
And it hurts sometimes
To help someone from the
Depths of your heart
Only for them to degrade you
How bitter is thank you?
Oftentimes, that's why
We stop doing good
Because no one appreciates it
We overlook our will
To serve the people
Because who wants
To be the one to always
Help people who never
Say thank you
Who spit saliva at them
Who rejoice when you fall?
Who wants to carry
The one who once kicked
Them down on their
Shoulders?
I should be saying me
You should be saying me
We all should be saying me
Because why are we so hung
In the past?
The Lord has forgotten
All that we did in the past
Why can't we forget
What other people have
Done unto us in the past?
Why are we judging
Others by their yesterday?
Yeah, maybe they still
Haven't changed
But why must we change our minds
When we're to help them
Because of who they are?
Why alter our purposes
Because of factors around us?
Why not just do our part?
Why can't we just do good
Unto others and expect
Nothing from them?
Why should our goodness
Be repaid with a thank you
And good deeds?
