Who's there to massage me,
Be my consoler and be my ear,
I have often wondered at least once a day,
All the hands that i gave to them,
I felt solitude crept up upon me,
Asking me who would be the one to do the same for me,
I could not give the answer not even once.
It was not because i want something in return,
But there are times when i am useless to my own self,
In needed of the hands of other people,
No matter how much i ask and hinted,
No one would be bothered a slave like me.
Sometimes i don't know which pain me the most,
Was it the aching back or simply just my broken heart,
Either way i still don't know who whisper the question to my ear,
Be it the angel who cares for me,
Or the devil who tries to lure me with lust,
In my despair,
I trust no one,
Not even me to give out the answer.
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