On Spending the Majority of My Night In a Chair In the Lobby

I wish I knew more about knowing less.
I know that it's hard to wrap your head
Around such a concept but stick with me,
I'll explain. I got this; let's rap.

I sat down and had a chat with a pretty girl.
With no ulterior motive other than letting her
Have a chance to show who she is.
To explain and to unload and to be.
(If that is the case why even mention she's pretty?
Well, you see, it's part of who she is. Not just looks
But I saw a truly pretty human being. Sweet, honest.
"Beautiful soul" seems like a grand assumption, but
A pretty mind, body, and spirit certainly
Sums her up adequately.)

A tired black girl sat down in the chair
Adjacent to mine and in a sleep high
Sort of state talked to me and smiled.
A pretty smile and a genuine sort of friendliness,
Uncommon in most people is what she portrayed.
Then, a tall young man, no more than her friend carried her
All the way back to her bed.
(Then they came back out to where I was sitting. She couldn't sleep and he
Is very accommodating, so he came back with her. They've known each other
just under a week. I love people like that.)

I spent more of my night in waking hours than sleeping ones and
I couldn't help but feel my wakefulness was helpfulness, in some capacity.
I love being helpful, but then I love getting help and because I'm so helpful,
Sometimes it's hard to be helped, at least, in some capacities, at least sometimes.
In no way related to boastfulness, I sometimes wish I didn't often have most answers,
When it comes to silly matters and late night dilemmas of who and new and how do you do.
I guess that that's selfish and I'm just more than helpless in the art of helplessness.
But, I'm me and they are them and you are you because God, Karma, and Fate deemed it to be true.