It starts as a small voice, that whispers in our ears,
Mocking and gibing about our darkest fears.
“You’ll never be the best, just always the worst!”
We do our best to ignore it at first
But the voice becomes two, then one, then a crowd
Until what once was a whisper becomes painfully loud.
Telling us that in comparison to most
We have no accomplishments of which we can boast
We’ve never done anything worthy of merit,
And our opinion is pointless, so why do we share it?
“No one gives a damn about your sorrows and strife,
And you’re just living out a long, pointless life.”
You’re drowning in whispers, and caught in despair,
Hoping against hope that there’s someone out there.
And just when you’ve reached the end of your rope,
A tiny voice whispers “Don’t give up hope.
For you are important, your life is a gift.”
And for one shining moment your spirit will lift.
The whispers grow quiet, their push nearly gone,
But for one little voice that whispers…. “Hold on.”