Each soul is a melody,
unique in its tune—
some soft as a whisper,
some bright as the moon.

Your heart holds the tempo,
your spirit, the key,
a symphony woven
of all you might be.

Some days, just a flute-note,
light, floating, alone.
Some days, a full chorus—
deep, resonant, strong.

Don’t envy the songbird
who sings in the shade,
or scorn the bold thunder
that won’t be delayed.

No note is misplaced here,
no chord is a wrong—
just life, ever-tuning
the lines of your song.

So play without fearing,
let dissonance pass.
The world needs your music—
no voice sings your class.