When mind’s eye turns dark and clueless,
Leaving one breathless,
Chill out in silhouette,
It shall make a pirouette,
And give one something to write.
“Listen to me,”
Said the little girl, in confidence.
“I have a voice;
It might be tiny, but never insignificant.
It’s the voice of hope, wrapped in faith,
Believing it shall make a difference,
For the sake of my fellow beings,
Now and in the years to come.”
She lifted her hand,
And raised her voice again,
“Listen to my voice!”