Rumors

Voices begin,

murmuring and whispering.

The din of a crowd

a gentle hum.

No words are distinguishable.

They are all the same,

black-and-white blurs.

Then, a gray form

pierces the fringes

of the crowd.

Barely noticeable but

different enough to be seen.

Bright and radiantly colorful.

 

Envy pierces the hearts

of all who look

upon the form.

The din rises as

envy masquerades in

the thick, looming costume

of hate.

Hissing.

Threatening the unwelcome intruder.

 

Voices push through

to the form,

sharing one topic

as they talk.

False truths spin

throughout the room,

spat out from the

mouths of cruel souls.

The form slowly

backs away as

the rumors catch and spread,

as contagious as the plague.

Caught up in lies,

the crowd begins

to believe their

own false truths.

Gradually, they poison themselves,

and the form,

with their own sins.

Author's Note

The bitter, toxic poison that is a rumor.

Reviews

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

As a child I loved to play the game Gossip. This game vividly showed what your poem has. How twisted words can become and how toxic they can be to the lives around them. Very well penned

[quinfinn]

eloquently expressed and beautifully written. no one deserves nor expects the vicious ugliness of rumours. you have captured the phenomenon wonderfully in your verse. all my emphatic praise is yours!