They labeled me inappropriate!
Then made me out to be the Bitchy-witch.
The whispers travel through the halls like smoke,
A curated rumor, a carefully crafted lie,
They gather in corners to dissect the way we spoke,
Tracing a phantom lust within the eye.
They label kindness as a hidden snare,
And call our simple warmth a calculated game,
As if the natural breath of light and air
Must be a hollow vessel for the shame.
"Inappropriate," they murmur to the walls,
Suggesting I have cast a velvet net,
That every word of mine that softly falls
Is just a lure to make your heart forget.
It’s strange how they define the space between,
Translating laughter into something base,
Painting the candid moments we have seen
With stains of hunger I cannot erase.
I never sought to bend your soul my way,
Nor trade in shadows, secrets, or disguise;
It’s tragic how they steal the light of day
To paint a scandal where the spirit lies.
They view the honest tether of a friend
As something tethered to a dark intent,
Too blind to see the bridge that doesn't bend,
Or fathom peace that isn't heaven-sent.
So let them weave their tales of false design,
And guard their narrow borders of the heart;
They’ll never reach the truth that is as mine—
That we were whole, before they tore us apart.
-
Author:
Friendship (
Offline) - Published: May 3rd, 2026 05:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett

Offline)
Comments3
Woah, what a change of pace.
your secret is safe with me.A magnificent poem.So creative and clever.I really enjoyed reading
Technically well crafted with good rhyme and meter it flows well telling its story of betrayal and labeling. There is evident emotion in the write that seems to grow with each verse. On its technical merit a fave
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.