Talk... Poem by Connetta Jean

One thing I tend to do a lot
Is talk and talk and talk and talk..
But if Grandma ever gave you a call
You'd know it's not my fault at all..
it's somthing that's inside my genes..
one of those little quarky passed down things..
Cause my sitster Mother (daugther too)
all do the talking thing (they do) .
And Since i go crazy loving them
I'm thankful i still have a friend.
But Friends they know how i can
go on and on....just like i am.
Even my poems say, way too much (a lot)
just talk talk talk, talk talk talk talk.