I want, You Need

I want to be the net that catches you,
but I'm not knit nearly tight enough and you'll fall right through.

I want to be the blanket that warms you,
but I'm simply just too thin and you'll still catch a chill.

I want to be the candle the leads you,
but my flame blew out long ago and you'll get lost in the dark.

I want to be the pillow that comforts you,
but I'm lacking the softness and support to give the rest you need.

I want to be the tree who holds you,
but my roots are far too shallow and I'll topple over when you lean.

I want to be the hand that lifts you,
but my owns weights are too heavy and I'll bring you farther down.

I want to be the laugh that cheers you,
but my joy is buried in pity and you'll be left with your sorrow.

I want to be the walls to protect you,
but I'm broken and crumbling and you'll be left wide open.

I want to be the medicine to heal you,
but I'm afraid I'm much too weak and you'll be left still hurting.

I want to be the friend you need,
but I'm just me, and I might not be enough.