Where does the Sounding Board go to be heard?
I’ve always been a good listener – a shoulder to cry on. At times I need that in return. This poem is about me trying to find someone to hear me for once.
I listen and more – I hear.
I offer advice
I hold you up when you would fall
My ear – my shoulder – my heart
they will always be there for you
Where do I go – to be heard?
Where do I go – to experience empathy?
Where do I go – for advice?
Who will hold me up when I would fall?
What ear will listen and hear?
What shoulder will absorb my tears?
What heart will be open for me?
Where does the sounding board go to be heard?