Fifteen Minutes of Shame
It’s too much to bear.
My fifteen minutes of shame
Up in suffocating smoke.
My private life, to the public, aired.
This is not what I think of when I hear ‘current affairs’.
They twist and break my words until I am at a loss
Out of characters.
Their behaviour monstrous, like vultures,
Reading between the lines
I am forced to write on social media’s blackboard
Only for my social soapbox scrubbed away,
My vocals silenced by the discord.
I close my open book to save face.
I am a twit.
And my gram weighs me down.
Heavier than ever before.
My online presence diminished to a broken record
As I apologise for the past.
But it’s not enough.
My words online mean both everything and anything,
I am my own oxymoron.
In America they call it a cellphone,
The keys beneath mine aren’t enough to unlock me from my prison.
These anonymous viewers, proclaiming repulsion, are drawn to me.
My downfall is their entertainment.
A twenty-first century humiliation
To be made an example of.
Shame in fifteen minutes.
Before I am hung, drawn and quartered.
Then they move on…