If my worth is determined by other people,

I am doomed.

For I was cursed with being the helper.

The unrecognized kind,

the one everyone always runs to,

but also the one everyone stabs.

I can make people stop bleeding 

at the price of bleeding myself out.

Everyone loves being helped.

But that doesn't make the helper matter.

Insignificant, until I'm finally gone.

But hey! At least I helped, right?