No good deed
Goes unpunished.
Truth is a kindness,
Not always a cure in need.
Indeed, I see,
Is this compassion fatigue?

A will to be heard,
Met with care;
But if I dissent,
It might seem unfair.
Shall I speak? Do I dare,
Amidst this snare?

Agreement now the medicine sought;
To listen, is it for naught?
For from these lips
Science shall tumble;
It lands as a fumble,
Thus, an end with a mumble.

The bond is shaken,
A rapport forsaken.
Then, another cost:
A wound for a wound, tossed;
Now, together,
At a loss.

A habit to persist,
Now known as grit,
Fueled by empathy
And its solace;
The awe of impact,
Keeping its promise.

Yet healers too brave scars,
Each a mar;
With the height
Of the bar,
Telling the story
Of a quiet will

To keep listening still.

Ashwini Nadkarni is a psychiatrist.