How Medium Shaped My Voice (A Poem)

Crafting Dreams

Upon the vast and endless Medium stage,

I stood, a novice, at the very edge.

English, not my tongue, a barrier it seemed,

Yet, within me, a passionate writer dreamed.

My early words stumbled, fell flat, unrefined,

In the craft of language, I was nearly blind.

My articles, brief, lacking depth or flair,

Felt like echoes in an empty square.

No readers lingered, no followers to find,

Just my lone voice, in the digital wind.

Comments, claps – they were nowhere in sight,

In the writers’ realm, I had yet to ignite.

But a spark within me refused to dim,

Against the tide, I learned to swim.

With every article, every line,

I saw my own progress, a gradual incline.

Medium’s writers, with open arms and minds,

Showed me that growth is what one finds.

They shared their knowledge, their art, their soul,

In their sea of words, I found my role.

I learned to craft headlines, to allure,

To weave my words, make my voice pure.

My grammar strengthened, my vocabulary grew,

In the language of Shakespeare, I found my cue.

From a shaky start, my confidence soared,

With each new piece, my spirit roared.

My followers increased, claps began to rain,

No longer did I write in vain.

In this community, I found my pace,

Each helpful tip, a warm embrace.

I am a writer, no longer in fear,

On Medium’s expanse, I steer my sphere.

From a timid voice, now clear and strong,

I share my story, I belong.

My journey, a testament to perseverance,

In the world of words, I’ve found my resonance.

So here I am, in this vibrant throng,

Medium, the place where I belong.

With every word, I paint my dream,

On this vast canvas, I now gleam.

Let this poem be my heartfelt song,

A tribute to where I’ve come along.

For in this space, I’ve found my way,

In the heart of Medium, I will stay.