They don’t know you.
Yet they speak.
They speak as if they know the truth.
There is no truth.
Only half truths.
They’re quick to judge.
They’re quick to choose sides.
But they’re slower than a snail.
They are frail, bound as sheep.
They believe they are wolves, they lie to themselves.
For they cannot see their own truth, believing their own lies.
When someone authentic stands before them,
they have nothing to look back on to accept what is.
Their lack of attention, of patience, of humility,
will surely be their downfall in the end.
About the Creator
Dalila Fuentes
Writer, artist, and creative overall.I write from fictional to romance to horror.
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More stories from Dalila Fuentes and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Gift I Needed
I awake to the chirping sounds of the birds, their singing in the high summer morning. I can hear the faint laughter outside, children playing a game early. It is summertime; there is no need to stay inside, I suppose. I desire to sleep in; however, I can say the sounds are a nice difference from my phone alarm. My chubby little tabby walks on top of my chest and sits down. She purrs, looking down at my face with her paw on top of my mouth. It's almost as if she's trying to kill me in my sleep. I smile at her taking my little feline down to the floor.
By Dalila Fuentes3 years ago in Fiction
My To Be Read List
I have been taking some time away from writing. I haven't forgotten about Vocal, the truth is I just have been too busy pursuing other things to write online and honestly, my little family and I just had a really hard month between the flu and a weird eye infection/cold circulating our house. I'm currently sipping some warm peppermint tea because my throat is sore.
By Chloe Rose Violet 🌹a day ago in BookClub
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