Innocent Bystander
Rumors can leave
more damage than bullets--
bullets can be picks up and thrown in the trash,
wounds can be bound up
and tended to.
Rumors have
unclear origins
and no definite ending,
cuts in esteem and worth
are left to widen and fester.
I’m glad it wasn’t me
this time.
I walk through
the hordes of chittering classmates,
not participating,
preserving my innocent-bystander status.
Nothing I can do will stop it
and I won’t perpetuate it;
every student for themselves.
The subject of rumor
becomes painfully obvious--
only teachers address them,
they keep their eyes on the ground all day,
rumors become more extravagant in their wake.
They surprise us by showing up at lunch,
and a table quickly becomes available--
six seats for them and their backpack.
They act like none of this matters,
but I see their hand shake.
I’m glad it wasn’t me
this time.
But it could be
next time.
How many will whisper?
How many will stare?
How many will quietly keep their innocent-stander status?
I claim a chair at the rumor subject’s table.
Some choices are better than being an innocent bystander.
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