The voices mount their cavalierly titles

Marching towards the ever crumbling tower of hope

Seeking out the destitute visage of my doubt

The nucleur core of my growing insecurities

Trying to break what's been cracked

Soiling what's been renewed,

And I

For the love of me

Stand at the gate

Speaking loudly to all and none

Yelling to be heard

Needing to be heard

Whispering to be sound

Where voice is found.

I

The nerd in the front of the class

With eyes lowered like Saturday night standards

Beats her chest with silent fists

Standing at the broken gates

Fending off any who so much as wish to break her spirits

Who so much as try to deny her flame

And strangle her dreams,

I

She

Last picked to play

First asked to stay

Wilts in their winter-like glare

Whilst willowing in the tilt of spring

Waiting to finally blossom

Or at least grow wings.

I am she

The girl hidden in the ever growing cacophony

Standing in the crowd

Drowning in the sound.