A spellbinder of sorts – that’s what I tell myself
And according to me, it’s the only opinion that matters.
With what fluency and elegance he speaks, they’ll say.
The arguments he wins—
The way which he fluently, pedagogically selects every word.
Extraordinary diction!
Stupendous articulation!
Syntax and vernacular unmatched – surpassed by none.
Grammatical mistakes? Nonexistent.
With what precision and accuracy he wins every argument.
A counter for every comeback—
How he persuades the masses,
A general of the mind!
An admiral of the spoken word!
Opulent lexicon!
Sagacity of wit!
As though he knows what we’re thinking, they remark.
He’s right, they cringe, how does he do it?
Resistance crumbles like the walls of Jericho.
Surrendering dresses tumble to the floor.
Speechless but roused to action—
Ready to riot at the sound of my voice.
A pioneer!
A master!
These neophytes have nary a chance!
The power of my language trumps all opposition.
The President and prophet consent to my will.
The two warring parties zealously sign my treaty.
The board of directors submits to my proposal.
Of course I win!
But, in point of fact, I am not speaking at all.