Hear junior Andrew Mills perform his “My Voice” at a poetry slam night at Java Joe’s.
My Voice
So I have a loud voice. I can’t help that it booms across rooms and shatters soft sensitive silences like so many slammin’ stereos and when I get excited people are like, oh no, here he goes, like someone cranked the volume on those big bass Bose. I can’t whisper to save my life, ‘cause my soft slithering sound cuts through silence like a knife. When I was little, my mom had my hearing tested twice, or maybe thrice, but no dice, ‘cause my ear drums beat quite nice, even though this voice I’ve been endowed with will slice through the loudest crowd and the proudest shroud of quiet like the loudest library riot.
But by and by I’m not embarrassed by my big boy booming bass. I see it as a gift, like God took a moment to sift through his bulging bag of brilliant traits, traits that make the greats, but for me he shifted aside the height, the 20/20 sight, and any chance of winning a UFC fight till he found what would make my life alright, no, not alright, just right! I was made with a whole bag of confidence, a love of words so intense, and just a dash of common sense. My big voice is what makes it all mix. God gave me all these nifty tricks, but without my voice I’d be a lion without teeth, a sword without a sheath, or a Ledger a without Heath.
But this ain’t all about me. I embrace my gift with glee, but then look up and see not everyone’s as free. If some say you talk too fast just verbally blast past that aghast mass. And if God made you a bit rounder don’t flounder, just fly that deep-fat-fried freak flag high and be proud as you pound down another quarter pounder. Now if you’re powdered paper white and have to constantly fight daylight don’t hide from sight, just let your personality shine so bright that people’s burnt retinas aren’t the only reason they won’t forget ya.
I can think of a thousand more gifts hidden that are god given for lives that people aren’t livin’. So, dig up that hidden trait that you may hate, ‘cause others might think it’s your fate to be great with that hidden hated trait. I don’t know everything, but I guarantee your gifts are gorgeous, your gifts are glorious, your gifts are God-given so gosh darn it just keep giving! Oh, uh oh, there I go shouting again, you’re welcome.
– Andrew Mills