The Rumor Mill


These recycling,
ambivalent chords-
the tales told
in sing-song voices,
stitched, weaved,
like scarlet beacons
exposing secrets
once buried deep;
meant to be kept,
never repeated.
Yet the echoing
of indiscreet hums,
gave birth
to this mix
of broken beats
on revived drums.
And the chaotic cries
of loosened strings,
to off-key strums.
These voices wild,
sounded proud
to armies far and wide-
the voices’ clout
exacting change,
boasting,
undoubted actuality.
Presuming no liability,
except assured truth
by defying the reality
of the exposed proof.

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