No touch to let me know I am loved in such a special way.

No words to let me know someone
believes in me when my spirit has been crushed beneath my feet.

No reward for giving my best.

Just scorn and ridicule my life receives.

Yet like Jeremiah my tears and broken heart must not discourage me.

The hate of those that should love me must not keep me from my task at hand.

For I am the Messenger of the King.

Therefore my pain cannot be dwelled upon.

What I do not have cannot be thought about.

If it shall keep others from hearing the message of my King.

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