Whose whispers ring inside my inner ear <br />Like an endless rush of a carving waterfall, <br />Piercing my soul to form its own path <br />I have no control over nature’s course. <br />I’m not a biologist or an otologist, <br />Or know it all- Gestalt psychologist- <br />A holy man, a saint, an angel, or a monk <br />No holly divinity greases my clock. <br />I’m run of the mill, an average Joe blow, <br />I process what feeds randomly my daily mill. <br />You wont notice me as you pass me by; <br /> You dismiss my space, while you gossip away! <br />One percent my proven defensive batting average, <br />While ninety nine percent tittle-tattle trajectories <br />Shake the grounds I anchor my bolts in. <br />Everyday I fall prey to sounds of malevolent whispers, <br />At bedtime I drown in make belief false hisses. <br />I pity my soul’s intense workload: <br /> Beyond its Godly designed specs. <br />Mephistopheles won each round in and out of the ring. <br />Ninety nine percent tittle-tattle piercing trajectories <br />Plate my every breath with a chaotic existence. <br />Who is condemned to hell? Whose forever-fertile fiery flesh? <br />It is I the embodiment of Faust’s destiny. <br />My soul’s weakness unable to release itself <br />From the firm grip of loose tongues! <br /> <br /> <br />May 15 2014 <br />Copyright Leaking Pen 2014<br /><br />Leaking Pen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tittle-tattle-3/
