Apples of the Hall

Heard it in the hallway,

None knew it floated my way.

They seem to stage whisper,

In tones that are crisper.

What they say is quite alarming

And very much disarming. 

 

Why keep pretending?

Your words are descending!

The things you say behind my back,

Feels like a brutal attack.

You shall not know your slice,

For I will continue to be nice.

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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