My Voice
I joined the protest on a whim.
Unplanned, I just left work,
Walked down and joined the crowd.
I joined many thousands
Exercising our right to raise our voices
Against what we felt was wrong.
As I entered the crowd
I became surrounded by signs and slogans,
Some handwritten, some professionally printed.
I found myself wishing that
I had taken the time to write a sign,
Even on a scrap of cardboard.
Then it came to me.
I had my sign.
I held up my two fingers
In the sign of peace.
My personal peace sign.
My handwritten sign.
My voice.
Roy W. Backes
© 2017
Roy W. Backes - Poetry 