Gossip

A very short piece, it speaks for itself:

My ear to the door I heard quite a noise and
Opened it up to release all the poison
From wounded emotion they ran worn and scared
Failing to notice I squared the playing field fair

Yet I'm lead to believe I'm acting in fault
For fixing the problem, disinfecting with salt
I learned long ago to refuse such a notion
That fair is a tyranny of wounded emotion