Bad Poetry Friday

Rumors (c. 1994)

Rumors fly like

a bird on our tongue

We all ralk about someone

We gossip and criticize

and watch the pain in their eyes

but when the tables turn

We get beaten and burned

We want it to end

And be free again

From what the rumors say

 

Notes:

Ten bucks says I wrote this about the nose picking rumor

 

 

Leave a comment