I am the powerful voice of the masses
spinning tales from the lectern.
I insist, I’ve something to say here.
I am hanging by one precarious thread,
dangling off Charlotte’s web.
I had the words, until
I became blind by people
the hot coal of their voices
seeped past my ear drums
and burnt the rods and
safety cones that kept me in line
I think I knew what I meant to say.
I had a powerful voice, once.
I had the pen, the words, the wonder.
I had the lecture hall full and then
I stopped and spoke in whispers.
© Laura A. Lord, 2015
Thank you to The Sunday Whirl and their wordle prompt.