Why do we do the things we do,

Thinking in our head that we need no thanks,

Simply because it’s the “right” thing

Even when in our hearts we do it

Because we have a secret agenda?

Every message and every word 

Is a move in a complex game.

Sometimes it’s just for a thank you,

To be heard, to be noticed.

Other times its for greater things,

Love, promotion, a reward of some kind.

I am plagued by this oxymoronic behavior

Of doing and expecting nothing,

Yet being disappointed when nothing

Really happens.

My words fall on deaf ears.

My writing for naught.

I suppose the least, I would like,

Is some recognition.

That what I said was heard,

What I wrote was read,

Because isn’t that what you would want?

To be noticed and seen,

No matter how insignificant,

No matter how “right” it is,

No matter how much you tell yourself

“It’s alright, they have others.” or

“It’s alright, I did it for them, not others.”

We all just want to be recognized, don’t we?