Touch Poem by Manager Poet

Touch is a truly wonderful gift one gives another.
You first learn of its significance from your mother.
As I entered into adolescence, I viewed touch in a
totally different way.
I thought more of touch as just a roll in the hay.
Love gives birth to what touch should be.
It's when the two become one, don't you see.
What happened next, I'll never understand.
The gift of touch was slowly being banned.
Seeking touch from others in different ways, a
massage, a haircut and a wash, didn't fill a growing
void.
Touch as a gift from my love was slowly being destroyed.
I thought that perhaps I could earn more touch if I would try all
the harder.
Yet in the end, she had no more ardor.
As I recall, there was a sick experiment done long ago.
Some babies got touch, while the others were told no.
The infants who were touched seemed to thrive.
Babies denied touch all but died.
Woman or man, it does not matter.
Denying another touch causes a soul to shatter.
Any one can learn to touch another if you so choose.
Ask yourself, 'How could being affectionate ever cause
one to lose? '
For now and in the future, I will cherish any touch I receive.
Even if it comes from my stylist, though that may be hard to
believe.
When someone washes your hair with such finesse, it is
hard to not feel so blessed.
Reclining, warm water flowing over my head, her hands
moving through my hair gives my touch deprived soul rest.
Being who I am, I am willing give the gift of touch.
The question still remains, 'Am I asking too much? '
One more line and then I'm through.
What does being touched do for you?