Lost Voice

A light flicks on in my head
I am transparent, like an x-ray
Amidst a multitude of Lilliputians
They swarm around my feet
Anything to ingratiate themselves
With this local literary crowd
They click their tiny heels and bow
But I remain detached, disinterested
I yawn – a huge cat-like yawn
And long to be somewhere, anywhere else

I lean back on the crimson sofa
Scarlet skirts spread out before me
These shades of red collide and wisely
All other colours flee. They disperse
And hang in the air, barely visible
And ‘Red’ occupied her place on the throne

They call my name and I stand
I walk; I take my place at the podium
And squirm beneath the collective gaze
Of this uncalled for audience
For I was not the one who summoned them
I do not require their affection
I do not require their attention
I do not require their servitude
I open my mouth to speak but the voice
That emerges is not my own

My real voice is alone
And, oh so far away.