Whispers

Underhanded murmurs from the brook

The brook of deceit and falsehood

It never stops flowing

It comes from a spring of lies

And nosy spies

Gossipers and politicians use it all the time

To get their way

For their own gain and mischief

It washes up from the dirt

From misery and hurt

It is foul smelling water

But you can’t smell it

If your nose is in the air

If from that brook you drink

You share its sinful ink

It prevents you from more noble aspirations

Searching your own soul

Of really knowing without question

To speak of real truth

Instead be so uncouth

So many rivers poisoned now by dirty wells

Spring to live from all that poison

Spread lies instead of goodness

Wars, famine, and hurt

All it takes it just a spurt

The devil machinations help that’s clear

And drink that poison without fear

Drink ink that looks like water clear

So my friends watch from where you drink

Is it water, or is it ink!