Sound reverbates in my diaphram, screeching out harsh melodies. I sing.

Steps come down the stairs, telling me to shush. I sing louder.

Again, I am scolded. I scream lyrics.

You hate my voice, but others enjoy these throaty bellows. I sing more.

I practice more, hoping I'm good enough. I sing until it hurts.

My voice cracks with my words occasionally, maybe I'm just sick? I try to sing.

My voice is gone. I stop signing.

I have no song.