Lines You've Already Rejected

I wish I could write a poem
That was pure and true enough
To be a healing ointment
For the wounds within your soul.
For though I hear your cries I know
You don't want me to answer.
And any efforts that I make
Will be misunderstood
As clumsy, and self-serving,
When all my best intention
Is to ease your hurting spirit,
And to reassure your heart
That though the night is dark,
Though the path is steep and hidden,
Though storm clouds threaten overhead
Still you are not alone.
There's a hand, an arm, a shoulder
Standing ready, when you need them.
All you have to do is let me
Be there for you when you call.