The Massage

Have you ever had a massage of any kind? During the process,did you,your teeth, grind? I always thought you get this tender,sweet, relaxing feeling; Until I became a massage client who left squealing. What was going on inside my brain, Accepting one to mount that pressure where there was pain? I'm not a fool, but I hate that often times, I act dense; Closing my eyes, toughening, that you may think I'm meditating upon sense. Once upon a time, I willingly used my hand and chose,from the variety,a tatty dress; I took that rag home, put it on,glanced and smiled at my beauty all as a mess! So, I was talking about a body massage, A body manipulation that feels good only as a mirage. Resenting what is truth on ground,I winced; Upon my therapist drawing closer,I flinched. A burning sensation of discomfort and pain, Digging through my tissues to the thinnest vein, It's a wriggle,wiggle motion, in solemn responce to the tingle; Love is a beautiful thing,yet, I choose to remain single, For disappointments await in all corners, It's an all-around world,like the defence of snorters. The doctor gave me rules, one; that I should get massage oil; And now, to the men that enjoy smooth ladies doing it,I was yet to be a foil! Two,she said warm water could do; this sounded more natural; Healing by something made by the one,whose powers are supernatural! The massage oil in my bag,a cool melody ringing in my heart, Out of my home, I walked with good posture,perfect gait,all smart; Ready to meet my doctor,to feel the soothing touch. And the long felt back pain would be no more, for I the other day,I prayed about it in church. What,I thought was the perfect therapeutic body massage, A moment in a hell of torment I spent,like playing a visage!