That rumor.
That weed.
That little pest
will pay no head.
It starts so small,
so harmless and faint,
but grows so tall!
There is no restraint.
A rumor is a seed.
When planted in any soil,
It grows into a weed.
No pain, sweat, or toil
to meet its need.
The rumor weed,
That destructive little pest.
Don't help it along.
Don't grow it to its best.
~Hannah Jo
From Experience
Sunday, May 17, 2009
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This is an amazing poem han! I love it!
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