MUTE SILENCE RINGS RUMOURS

Whispers rose like smoke

Blew like the wind

Settled like smog

And polluted the minds

 

For they could find

What none could see

With eagle’s eye

buttoned to their feet

 

The feet which greet

suspicious brains

Full of curiosity

Intended to defame

 

Those whose names

Are unknown yet

And whose past

Is a secret

 

Lying in the closet

Like a dead dog

Longing to be kicked

By a drama-hungry folk

 – Akanksha Gupta

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