(poems go here) My Loudness!

I was born with it. My loudness I mean. It is mine therefore I shall call it my loudness. From deep within my diaphragm, it’s pushing, forcing its way out. Wanting to come up. Wanting to be heard. It’s me. It’s mine. It’s part of me. Of who I am. I can’t be me without the loud, and I doubt ever looked this good anyway. My loud is so loud it’s silent. See how loud it is. So loud it could top an opera singer or shatter 16 inch bulletproof glass with no hesitation. I have enemies because of my loudness and also made friends. Do I care? NO! I got my loudness. Don’t question it. It’s always going to be there. No one can change that. My loudness is beautiful. A beauty that can’t be practiced. You just gotta have it like I got it. Aint no blueprint for it. No schematic. No Goggling on how to get it. You gotta be born with it like I was. My loud is a noun, adjective and verb. It’s me. Mine!