I’m willing to sacrifice myself
to prove the truth
of my words
of me
are you willing to do the same?
lies…
in time…
will be uncovered
and everyone will see
the scuttling
ear to ear
insidiously whispering
it will be seen
I have never changed
eventually they’ll know
and perhaps remember
but it will be too late
because after all…
they believed
(that sudden intake of breath
causing a sharp clench in your chest…
that…
is called your conscience…
you should listen to it sometime)
Powerfully penned, Willow. Another excellent write that packs a punch my friend. The truth eventually cuts through all the bullshit, I agree completely. I’ll bring more wood for the bonfire, you already brought the gasoline. Nicely done as always. Appreciate you.
Damian
The person who whispered lies about me was a bully. Thought they’d always get their way because the mask they wore for everyone else was so attractive. That’s pretty much what I see when I look at the current completely corrupt regime. You know they’re lying because their lips are moving. But the fanatics still follow their premier bully like the blind sycophants they are. When the blinders fall, it’s gonna get ugly. We might just need a bigger bonfire, my friend
Oh yeah, I know how annoying this gossip is! But there are always people who listen attentively to you and do only believe what they hear from your mouth. They are your people, the ones who have your back. Great writing, dear Willow!
It’s how you sort the real from the face front friends, unfortunately. I lost a lot of people I thought knew me for me because they listened to lies. In the end, I didn’t need that kind of support. It wasn’t real. I learned a lot from the experience though. Thank you, Elke
Damn. I enjoyed this gut punch. And how it flows and lingers. Wonderful!
Retrospect-ivision is the perfect view. Seems like there’s always going to be somebody who has to test the boundaries and write a new reality, one that favors them. That’s our world these days.
Willow I was a target of gossip. A lie was told and the person who started it turn beet red when I confronted her with the person who she accused me of talking about. This poem is a slammer.
I try my best to not engage in that sort of interactions. If someone says something negative about someone else, I immediately wonder what they’re saying about me when I’m not there. I don’t know what they gain by it. Once the truth comes out, they look even worse. But they never seem to figure that out until it’s too late. Thank you, Fia