Soapboxers Poem by Colleen House

For some it's a permanent station in life.Perched atop the soapbox, like a vulture, waiting to voice unsolicited opinions. Providing two cents so freely as if they have so much to spare. Attempting to mow down the self-worth and self-esteem of others in the process. Soapboxers disguised as something else, a continual smile all the while
plotting the issue & method of attack.

Hidden soapboxer, they carry theirs around, even stand on it, but all the while whispering ideas, opinions, and protests of injustice. Hidden soapboxer never say a word, or even worse who they tell posses no power to change anything that really matters.

Then there's her or at least who she thinks she is, or maybe it's just who she aspires to be.Don't get her wrong now, she has a soapbox. Yeah but she keeps it within arms reach. She pulls it out even stands on it, mostly just for a better view, a clearer understanding. Now some will say she's a vulture, others will say she's up there but she won't speak.

She will however listen intently, hoping, wishing, even praying that all conversation would fade into to background, that she could just be up there consumed by the silence in the only safe place, alone in her head with her thoughts.