where stops,
once told whispers
of ones secrets?
like a baton
in a relay race.
how many laps,
till it reaches
where it began?
does it change
in a lap’s span?
will we check,
if what we hear
is what it is?
or do we lap up
what is told?
all it takes
is a moment;
in the whisper,
steadily grows
all old rumors.
in the end,
it’s all about
the lie, the
changing lie;
nothing but
the lie.
Shared with Open Link Night Week 43 at the D’verse Poets Pub.
(May 9th, 2012)