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(Not 100% certain where the title came from.  The poem is about people who live entirely for others.  Not the sacrificial types who help those in need.  It’s about those who are raised to put themselves second and never attempt to do anything other than support those around them.)

How does one live

Without a sense of self

Born and trained

To always do for others

Put those around you ahead

Leaving your own wants

Your own tender ambitions

Stored in a satchel that you always carry

And rarely opened to the light of day

Asking for one’s own benefit

Is met with criticism

Accusations of selfishness

Declarations that one must give

And never complain

Such an action is hated

For the ones at the bottom

Should never whine to those standing

Heavy upon their crumbling shoulders

Is there anyone who will sacrifice

For those that always give

And rarely receive what they truly want

A scrap of time to dream

A second to indulge the heart

And forget that their life

Is always lived for others