My Greatest Disposition

I understand giving to some degree,
but sometimes always giving  can hurt me,

To give, give and give, that's my disposition,
some blame me for their falls, as if it were their mission,

If i can't please someone and help them through their pain,
Then i guess taking it out on me, seems to be their gain,

A tossing tide that brings me to the bow,
Makes me ask questions, like how did i let them down,

Guilt, and pain strike me, as if a nurse lost a man's life,
feeling it's somewhat her responsibility for his pain and strife,

She did all she could do, gave him his medicine needed,
stood by his side, even when he begged and pleaded,

If this tide is a battle, one that sometimes lost,
why must i keep rowing out to sea, when I'm at a great cost,

only to cause me pain, is what it feels like to give,
if i can't help everyone, blame shames me not to live,

But i can't stop giving because i know those tides will cease,
And i know when the horizon clears, some will thank me,

the thank yous i receive can conquer every storm,
and my pain felt each day, will leave me more and more,

So as i start each journey, i pray the tides be calm,
so for the ones i don't fail, i can still be, for them strong.