Talk
She used to be so jovial,
Spreading words like wedding flowers,
With all of her friends she would converse,
Not tempered or empowered.
But she spoke something amiss,
And her words spread ‘round about,
Though they started quietly,
They raced with a viral shout.
Soon those who disagreed with her,
Decided she should know,
They piled on with fervor,
So that her shame would grow.
They said they were the tolerant,
They said that change was good,
But now she’s sad and taciturn,
Quietly misunderstood.
Anne Selleck
Copyright 2020
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