There is an airborne whisper,
busy negotiating a maze of corridors
Heavy with hurtful words
it barely floats above the polished floor
Inscribed in chalk are white lies,
not so easy to erase
A victim holds her ears
her eyes wish not to read
This untruth will echo
until the next is given flight
Blather the shape of a bullet
and just as deadly
Do not give oxygen to
their stories of spite
Hold your breath
and witness gossip cease
© Copyright 2016 Philip H20s. All rights reserved.
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