They follow.
A hollow scream of anguish,
from within your facebook walls.
Like a post-it pinned, upon post-it pinned,
upon a bedroom wall. The scrawling lines between,
the repeating sadness, crying madness, count upon
the views now reached. Ratchet up.
Around the world.
Painted with whatever is spread by a thought spurred,
by thought spurred, by thought spurred bloody spur.
And when you leave, they tell you they will miss you.
Unlike a difficult truth.
Unlike a different opinion.
Unlike a negative review.
Unlike you.
by Gareth Rosser |