My soapbox

I love my little soapbox
It comes everywhere with me,
It lets me climb up on it
And loudly lecture thee.

I keep it in my pocket
To pull out when there is need,
But look, there is nobody
To listen to my creed.

I like to think my voice
Is special, do you hear,
But I think I should say sorry
Since I’ve caused many a tear.

Some have cried in laughter
At the ideas that I have said,
But others have not, and so
I really should just go to bed.