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The screen’s phantom light

Casts silhouettes of goblins

Off cheerful toys and wrinkled clothes.

Echoed mouse clicks, update chimes

And muffled sobs from a ghostly face

With red eyes fills the room.

 

Another post, another gunshot,

Bloody bullet holes to self-worth

From faceless creatures behind keyboards.

Don’t care about the real-life slaughter;

The casualties of their online onslaught

Generated by their virtual crimes.

 

Scrolls through the toxicity,

As one more post strikes,

It’s venom leaches with each word.

Other like-minded cowards hit like

To acidic abuses and death wishes

Like a judge, jury and executioner.

 

How simple it is by a few strokes

Annihilates a reputation in seconds.

Whilst followers relish the spectacle,

Luxuriate in anonymity,

Neglect that depravity leaves a trail

Right back to its putrid core.

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Elaine Mullarkey

About the Author: Elaine Mullarkey

She/Her Wordsmith and bibliophile that does a spot of writing every now and again.

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