Chatting in miniature

It’s not so much small talk, as chatting in miniature.
People skim over the dangerous depths.
Shallowness gives us a far brighter outlook
Thus we pass the time without causing regrets.
So listen, my dears, not to what I am saying
But rather the tone of my voice as I speak
Exclaiming with interest at gloomy weather
For only the seventeenth time this week.

Advertisements

Quiet Coach Motormouth

It drives me mad how some do chat
Chewing over this and that
Without a thought for others round
Those forced to listen to their sound.
The noise that issues from their mouth
Enough to drive you North to South
And send you round the bend I’d say,
Just hearing how they prate all day.
And yet one simply can’t request
Some peace and quiet, not e’en in jest!
For fear of tyranny, you see:
All those who chat oppressing me.