Drought

In a world where everyone thinks of themselves,
I expected for all to fulfill me.

In a place where selfishness reigned supreme,
I crowned myself up as king.

My life, my possessions, my money –
My achievements, my values, everything –

They were what mattered,
Precious were they –
As long as they satisfied me.

The purpose of others was simple:
A source of my pleasure, not pain.

If not in agreement with what I thought,
Stupid, ignorant were they.

One day I found out a secret.
Hidden, it was, yet plain.

If no one will give
Yet expects to receive,
A dry world it becomes,
Indeed.

Maybe I should start giving, I thought,
Be water where none is found.

But why would they look to me for life,
One whose errors solely abound?

The answer to that –
I am searching,
Maybe later I will show you

A selfless man, however far,
Here not for me, but you.