A Drumbeat of One’s Own

I hear the whispers swirling around me. The hushed voices carry both praise and scorn. Though their words reach my ears, I shrug them off. What do I care for idle chatter? I march to the beat of my own drum.
With head held high, I pave my own path. The murmurs fade to background noise. I tune out the petty gossip. Eyes forward, I envision my goals. Stepping lively, I make strides toward my dreams.
The crowd’s dull roar dims behind me. I remain fixed on my north star. Neither lifting me up nor dragging me down, their judgment doesn’t sway my course.
Come what may, I steer my own ship. Where I’m headed, their words can’t follow.
— Sahil Verma