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 empathize

I offer advice

I hold you up when you would fall

My ear – my shoulder – my heart

they will always be there for you

BUT

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?