You laugh at them. You point your finger and call them a fool. Their silence amuses you, their gentleness becomes your joke, and the crowd joins your laughter as if kindness were weakness. It feels enjoyable today, sweet on your tongue like careless victory. Their patience becomes your stage, their humility your entertainment. But time is a quiet witness. It watches without speaking, It writes its lessons slowly in the turning pages of life. A day will come When laughter turns into tears. The echoes of your mockery will return to your own ears like thunder across an empty sky. Situations will arise without warning, storms without hands to beat you Yet heavy enough to break your pride. Pain will arrive quietly, And you will feel the trembling of a heart that once laughed too loudly. And that fool, that funny person you once mocked, may stand in the distance, not laughing, but witnessing your tears, your shaking voice, Your falling ego. For life has a patient way of bending the tallest p...
They spoke my name
like it wasn’t mine.
Bent it.
Passed it around
in rooms I never entered,
in mouths that never asked me anything.
They said it loud,
confident,
Like lies get stronger
When you don’t hesitate.
And suddenly
I was guilty of stories
I never lived,
wearing accusations
like clothes someone else tailored for me.
Have you ever watched the truth
stand in the corner
While rumors get the microphone?
I have.
It hurts quieter than shouting
but deeper than fists.
I learned how silence feels
when it’s mistaken for weakness.
How dignity gets heavy
when you’re carrying it alone.
But hear me—
lies travel fast,
yeah,
but they don’t age well.
Truth limps,
but it arrives with receipts.
I’m still here.
Scarred, yes.
But not erased.
You can poison my name,
But you can’t live my life for me.
I walk forward
with my head high,
because one day
the same mouths that broke me
will choke on the truth.
And when that day comes,
I won’t scream.
I won’t explain.
My survival
will say everything.
© 2025 Gloria Penelope
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