Around Noon Mumblings

Questioning my ability to be self-compassionate.

Why

Do I have

More compassion

For you

Than myself?

Opening my heart

And arms

In a wide arc

To you.

When

I have trouble

Accepting myself

As a person.

Is it

A genetic defect

Or worse

For this?

As I walk

Down this road

Of despair

And guilt.

Knowing

What it means

To give another person

True compassion.

Without 

Being asked for

Anything

Given

In return.

Maybe

That's a form

Of compassion

In itself.

Author's Note

Title reflects, the time, which I wrote this poem.