Loquacious

I gave it away
And  she carries it
With  her for
Good  or ill I cannot
Say - fool that I am
I trust too much
With  sharing things
That they have
No  need to know
And  when  I shut my door
I rue it well
For ill could come of it:
Information carried
Out of my  sight - precious
Words  I let go
Unthinkingly and slow
Precious cargo
I let go.

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