B17_#164 // Public Toilet // Anonymous

Sunday, April 28, 2019 

The street roared with a deafening sound. 

Presumptuous life runs and dances, 

twists and turns, head down. 

Painting idealistic pictures of themselves,

sharing articles and displaying support filters 

for causes they don’t genuinely care about. 

Social justice warriors hidden behind their keyboards, 

arbitrarily pointing out, changing context, taking power. 

Stoping to consider these issues once they leave their computer.

In the archives of the cloud, nothing is erasable.

A little mistake can go viral, end a career, 

a social life, a life. 

From the depths of the writer’s refuge where my heart has stumbled, 

a warming sun overhead, freely I write.

It’s an enlightening world with a comforting horizon.

Here, unlike on the web, we can share, write, read, 

exchange real ideas and express our thoughts anonymously, 

without the unforgiving eye of political correctness. 

 

The cube’s author as been made anonymous upon request