Whispers.
They are so quiet, yet so loud.
They echo in the poor souls ears.
'Unworthy'
'Useless'
'Jerk'
'Bully'
'Emo'
All those words.
Little did those people know that those whispers could be heard.
Maybe they would've stopped.
Maybe they would've had sympathy.
But then again maybe they wouldn't have done these things.
Maybe they would've kept whispering.
Maybe they would've only whispered so the poor soul could hear.
But then after the bad whispers,
Are the good ones.
'Beautiful'
'Kind'
'Faithful'
All the poor souls lift there heads up.
They smile.
They take a step forward.
And finally they are happy.
Those happy souls now know that there will always be rain before there will be a rainbow.
