The widow had a secret,
She held it quite close,
She walked the town tight-lipped,
Piquing the curiosity of most.

Till one dawn came and
The townsfolk banged on her door.
They begged, pleaded, cried,
“Tell us! We can’t take it anymore!”

She emerged and hushed the crowd,
Then raised her frail voice to speak:
“I’ll tell you my terrible secret, friends,
Though it won’t be as juicy as you think.”

“The truth is, my day-to-day is dull;
Often I will nap, and sometimes I will sew.
So it is easy to see I have a lifestyle
That nobody would care to know.”

“Thus, I hid my simple and stale living,
And your rumors and gossip came.
You didn’t know, so you had to know,
And for that, you should be ashamed.”

She closed the door on shocked faces,
And shook her head in her hall.
“What a foolish and nosy bunch,”
She said, to the corpses in the wall.