Listening from the side, the fact a gossip I am I try to hide.
But the words are everywhere, in a place where everyone can hear.
I know I should respect another’s space, but getting the story out is truly my place.
The stories come one after one, combining a few I make them better than some.
With a light burning bright, I along for the entire ride.
Typing and typing, my fingers now sore.
Dispersing words in delight, and doing so with no fright.
So why do I tell other’s tales, and never mention mine?
I’m waiting for someone else to start listening from the side.
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