My Voice Doesn't Need a Microphone

My voice doesn't need a microphone;

The chords sing my heart's songs loudly for all to hear.

My eyes may need glasses one day;

Yet even the blurriest filter can't hide the world from me.

My hands will fight through all obstacles;

Arthritis won't stop me from documenting my thoughts and ideas.

My ears fail to catch everything and now anything;

My hands can help form the words my ears and mouth have forgotten.

My body is not a limit I can't overcome.

My body is not a vessel that breaks and then brings me down too.

My body is not perfect; but neither am I.

My body doesn't define me;

What I do with it does.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I will let the poem speak for itself.

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allets's picture

The Poem Speaks

Just as it should - phenominal poem - enjoyed this one. Love the ego in there - Hands remember. Nice wielding of images. :D - slc