Does my voice quiver enough?
Is my voice loud enough?
I once wrote on gasoline, and, yet, 
I heard the sweetest of melodies
Out of nowhere, 
Like hearing a choir from behind a door.
The collective laughter, some,
Directing me in “correct directions”,
But most, remaining undisturbed, and frankly,
Uncaring that one person wanted to make that difference,
But being different? That’s their downfall; their
Wings uprooted in a hospital bed,
Where they were “put in their place”.
I will remain undeterred.
I will not act like her voice did not mean a thing.
Even if her wings flew at the highest of heights.

©2026Ellen Finn