I move slowly yet
fast,
By murmur in an ear
am cast,
To the blessed I
cursed,
To the future am the
past,
Tentatively tip
toeing I don’t move fast I last.
Like a soft wind I
come,
Not alone but with my
camp,
A catalyst for the
whirl wind I harm,
Leaving a hullabaloo
not a hum.
To my non-believers I
teach,
Craft I have I’m no
witch,
My gospel I preach,
Followers I need
each.
I have seen a lot, am
old,
All I have heard I
wasn’t told,
To rumor mongers am
gold,
To victims am cold,
To my columnist am
fold,
I get to the papers
and get sold,
Not much but to those
that need rumors will hold,
Daily I have new
gossips not what I told.
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