When one holds so little,
And values their life as dirt,
You don’t know how much they’d sacrifice,
To spare others from their hurt.
My blood has no value to me,
I’d gladly loose a pint or four,
To spare the ones I love from their pain,
I’d do that and everything more.
Because I hold few near to me,
But I value them more than oxygen,
But I hardly can help as much as I want,
Much to my sacrificial chagrin.