In small places, everyone knows
Each other, whether good or bad —
A rumor, a story — it grows
Like wild-fire, as if it had

A life of its own — To survive,
To fight, to protect its good name.
It breathes, others keep it alive,
Chinese whispers — never the same.

Remember it from childish days?
Who cared, never seemed to matter —
It all comes back, everyone pays,
Things that are said, foolish chatter.

It depends on your point of view:
Legends were once small, then they grew.

Ferrick Gray
© 2020