When I spoke out

the world spared no glance;

drenched in solemnity, burdened with doubt,

I cursed in frustration at my hope of being heard.

A forgotten petition heedlessly posted,

reaffirmed my chilled feelings of doubt,

firmly searing public indifference,

and I struggled to erase its imprint from my mind.

Emptied, hollowed of all determination,

I sat and accepted the inequity of intolerance,

and shrank into the obscurity of silence.

When I spoke out

the world spared a passing glance;

empowered with confidence, encircled by strangers,

I held my position, immersed in the crowd.

Upon each sun’s breath on the dew-soaked dawn,  

I cradled a fiery collection of words –

nouns, verbs, and nostalgic phrases –

while modest observers, motioning through mundane routines,

marveled at my quiet shadow, somehow resembling a monument

etched upon parchment.