They all chatter,
Small talk all the time,
All go on their way,
They think they know it all.
Perchance I see a kindly face,
I will put them straight,
Chatter, chatter, small talk all the time,
It seems I am filled with gloom,
Travelling through a world without care,
A passage of despair,
Apprehension traps me in fear,
I am consumed with it,
But I must feel it and do it anyway,
I know what fear feels like, I know its taste,
Whilst all around look on and see my waste,
They can talk.