Cry of the lonely heart

This is a poem imagined and written when I was staying in Canada for a short time during my doctoral research. It was pride month, and my heart was thinking about the lives of those who have to constantly rebel against a society (which in their opinion is oppressing them), who seek acceptance, and who still may remain confused inside.

At times, we seek for a sign, we seek and seemingly never receive. Simultaneously, we notice several things and don't think much of them. Is the sign from God hidden among them? Is the sign from God also amidst the still small voice that we keep shushing?