A spotlight shining 
down gives significance to my face 
and draws attention to the beings among the dark surrounding space.
The microphone 
a massive fit within my cotton mouth:  my voice amplifies a welcome to the crowd with booming sound. 
Too late now, 
No turning back I preach my lines with charm 
as every beady eye investigates my nervous calm.  
Need for alarm; my sweaty palms collapse a desperate grip upon 
the silent seated people unresponsive to my drum.
Rising from their seats,
they aim for their retreat- 
FINE! turn your back on poetry 
don't listen to my speech!