Rumours have a way of sneaking past cracks and crevices,
Like tendrils of smoke snaking up and gathering mass-
They emerge, destroying characters and careers!
They have a character of their own that develops as they pass.
What began as a tendril, a wisp barely discernible, grows
Full bodied in size, fuelled by speculation and wild guesses.
All the great men say, ‘there’s no smoke without fire,’ thus it rises
So deviously like a sinuous serpent undulating in the grass!’
A twisted movement that surely defies the senses!
Were I to give rumours a voice, I’d say, ‘Like serpents they hiss,’
Insinuating whispers at first that turn into strident notes
And loud accusations that seek to drown innocent voices!
What began as a trickle ends up as a torrent that threatens
To drown one and all, character and aspirations,
Fed by a flood of hearsay and speculations!
But then of men, Kings and beggars, lovers and drunkards,
(A great leveller, that before rich and poor discerns not),
All, fall victim to the treacherous whiles of rumours!
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