The Net That Caught the Wrong Things

A fable about truth, trust, and the threads that tangle when we silence too much.

In the clearing near the Elder Tree,

The creatures spoke of what should be.

"The forest's words must stay polite—

Too many quarrels, wrongs, and fright!"

So down from boughs came Weaver Spider,

Who offered threads to make things tighter.

"Let me build a grand wide Net—

To catch what might bring deep regret."

The Buzzards clapped. "A net! How wise!

It filters out what we despise!

No more rude tweets or wrong-toned songs—

Let’s trap all things that feel too strong."

So Weaver spun and spun all day,

A web to filter what beasts say.

At first, it stopped the harsh and mean—

But then it snagged what no one’d seen:

A Finch's joke. A Beaver's rhyme.

A Turtle’s tale from ancient time.

It caught the poems Sprig would share—

And even Milo’s midnight prayer.

Crabbie crowed, "It’s caught too much!

Our truths are tangled in its clutch!"

But Buzzards squawked, "It’s working well!

It keeps things calm—no need to yell."

Lantern blinked from deep within.

"This net mistakes the source for sin.

When all that stirs is snared and tied,

The forest dims. Its light can’t glide."

Maple flew with Owliver wise.

"Let truth fly free—but screen the lies.

A net that blocks what all should see

Is worse than none—no liberty."

So Spider nodded, trimmed each line.

She left the jokes, and snared the slime.

Now whispers fly but lies don’t last—

And forest truths come through unmasked.

Did You Know?

Online filters and laws about speech can help prevent harm—but they must be fair. If a system blocks truth or silences voices, it may catch the wrong things.

🖋️ Why I Wrote This

Words have power—but so does the way we try to control them. I wrote The Net That Snared Too Much to explore the delicate balance between protecting a community from harm and preserving its freedom to speak, sing, question, and imagine.

In a forest full of voices—from the wise to the whimsical—there will always be disagreements. But when fear leads us to silence everything uncomfortable, we risk losing what makes the forest thrive: stories, humor, memory, and truth. The net in this tale began with good intentions, just as real-world rules around speech often do—but it quickly tightened around more than just cruelty. It began to stifle creativity, connection, and dissent.

This story encourages young readers to ask what should be filtered—and what must be free. It’s a gentle reminder that while some voices cause harm, not every stir is a threat—and sometimes, the boldest truth sounds strange at first.