Often they're my own voices
murmuring in my own mind,
whispering behind their palms,
pointing fingers surreptitiously.
But nothing is secret because
I can hear them loud and clear.
(Of course I can, I'm the one
working the controls.)
And there are those outside hecklers.
Who brandish opinions like sabers
and shoot out words like bullets.
They cannot douse your light.
Keep shining your unspeakable beauty,
be aware of your own warm glow,
spilling over into this broken world.
kastilwell
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