For what is the knowing without a telling?
The worthiness less merit in it’s holding.
A tiny knowledge that grows for sharing
And blossoms in nurtured winter.
Soft may be the news spread
But not a sliver of regret.
And why quake along your path
Now that light is shone?
Value in that bead of gossip
Was halved within the dark anon
Now that you have gifted news
And courted favour.
Your attributes do treble.
And who can blame the shadow walking?
There is little in this town
To discourage the unchivalrous
And turn an errant knight
Into a squawking fish wife.


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