Too jaded, too sly,
too subtle, too shy--
why am I described by so many,
judged by so many?

Maybe it's to better themselves.
If that's the case, why are they so angry?
No, that can't be right.

Some foxes pry to catch their meal.
Some doves hide away to conceal,
away from the monstrous overwhelm,
away from gossiper's dwellings,

only to find that they cannot escape
the gossiper's table
where their names are ravished,
and their character consumed
by the talk of the busybody.

To end this tale, I am obliged,
but I must give one final warning
of the persecution
that awaits each troubled soul,
striving to devour
until it engulfs them whole.

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