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
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