\"voices we allow\"
We leave the glass to let them pass, a crack to catch the wind,
But bar the gate before too late to keep the static banned.
For some will tread inside our head with heavy, muddy shoes,
While others creep into our sleep and leave us less to bother.
They bring their view to shape us new, or test the things we hold,
But we must sift the quiet gift from all the noise and dust.
A gentle tone becomes our own when it is softly spun,
To mend the seam of some old dream we thought that we must tend.
.