Saturday, 11 December 2010


I can hear them, hear the whispers.

I feel them, leaving me out in the cold.

I wish they knew me, of how I feel.

But I fear I am just a victim of rumours.

Falling to the untruths and bitter words.

I can not stop them, they are the whispeps.

They are what make civilizations crumble.

They are the fall of the greatest men.

No power can stop them, can destroy them.

We will be victims, for we are always judged.

Listen to it now, hear the terror of whispers.

As they spread unneeded racist slurs.

It spreads and consumes like an inferno.

Destroying everything that lies in it's path.

For everyone believes a spreading tidal wave.

I have fallen, I have been murdered by whispers.

They came in the middle of the night to take me away.

They smothered me and then I was swallowed whole.

Now just a shadow that passes unnoticed on by.

Whispers were the down fall, careless whispers told.


copyright Chris Smith 2010

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