To use a voice that is not my own
Is a craft I work to hone
Can I actually accomplish this?
This voice, sarcastic, full of wit
Is it mine, the voice you read?
Or is it a plant's seed?
Planted to bloom and grow
by me
To become something only you know
a weed?
Listen to the voice, go where it leads
Follow it when you must
Always trust
A boomerang returns to where it's thrown
The voice you hear, it's not my own
© 2016 Deanna Repose Oaks
All Rights Reserved
http://www.amazon.com/author/deannaoaks
