Gossip Hell

It's easier to follow the crowd
And succumb to poisonous words
Then to stand your ground
Being aware of the pain it causes
Is something they gladly ignore
I refuse to follow; I will not make a sound
Pressure building up inside my head
The bitterness surrounds me
The dirt remains on their lips
And judgement will be bled
Like a dying boar
Full of sickness, of disease
It will spread for all to tell
Who really knows me;
But the mask that they quickly read
Gives way to gossip hell
So feed the pettiness,
Feed the lies, the insecurities.
I will not give it any energy
Those who see the pain
And spread it instead of cure it
Are indeed sicker than me

by Caroline Guedes

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