Sunday Whirl #332
The Mighty Nothing
Ditch truth, tell only rumors.
Boil before serving.
Nothing real is as mighty as something
you hear on the grapevine.
The seams of your age-old wound
are the only reminder of the sliver that pierced your cheek.
The memory is almost lost in the middle of glorious light.
Your tears streak down to nothingness.
© 2018, MK
If you want to check the original post, you can visit the site. There are other poems written on that prompt – you may like them, also.
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I’ve always known people like that, the gossips, the tittle-tattlers, the poisoned of tongue. Once they were a minor irritation…
Now social media has given them enormous power and how mighty they are…and real becomes less real.
Scary.
Anna :o]
They seem validated.
Thanks for stopping by.