For the talkative - an ode

I know how it feels,
Words Awesomesauce,
Gushing out of every pore,
Without a second's pause.

I sense all the bants,
Disdain, evasion and fear,
When the great motor mouths,
Arrive loud, clear and near.

For all the soreness felt as caused,
By endless words, a loony noose,
It's all a frantic pursuit, oh! dear,
Of a soul to make merry, to amuse.

My dear, the talkative are weak sauce,
They babble to cheer, and spread some glee
Alas, why rage-quit and cause disgrace
Why vanish? why scorn? why stealthily flee?

For all their noise, they have a heart,
Like you and I, they need a caring ear,
Why then, you ignore and break them apart?
What unknown monster, in their childishness you fear?
And kill their joy, why?, with neglect, the spear?