Whimsy vision

The shredder whirrs away,
The monotonous drone
Consumes the large room,
With everyone but her
Having gone for the day,
Paper ribbons fly by me,
What if this was done,
Rushing in a bid to hide?
What if these innocuous,
Ribbons would reveal bygones,
That could burn our ears?
What if the morning after
Would bring about a buzz?
What if these could have
Made a wonderful life for some?
What if there was evil lurking
Within these strewn strips?
But now at winding down dusk
The shredder whirrs away.

Prompt: Poetic Asides