voice

is there a choice,
absent that voice,
who will I be
that no one can see,
just part of a herd
never to be heard...
just the silent squeak
of the eternally meek?
I know what I pick,
the slick trick
of being me,
even if nobody sees
or quotes.
who needs the note?
essence: me gets my vote.
I say what I may
in my own way
don't need to hide my thoughts,
after all, it's what I wrought
and can't be bought
but eternally sought