Post (an acrostic poem)

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Putting a piece of yourself out into the digital world

Organizing a public persona that the private one hides behind

Still, some of the private part leaks through the online words and pictures

That’s the good/bad of social media.

Model (an acrostic poem)

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Making miniatures of real life was their thing

Organizing all the bits and pieces

Determining how to fit them all together

Enabling the construct to simulate the reality, but at a smaller level

Letting them travel through time as they watched the big bang unfold on their computer screen

Shame (an acrostic poem)

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So many wanted her to stay inside the box of their construction

Happy and content with the societal norms

All she wanted to do was be free, to be herself

Maybe if they all accepted that she would have bloomed

Except they belittled her for being different till she hid away her truth until it was gone

Quit (an acrostic poem)

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Questing for the impossible

Unlocking her love and admiration

It eventually became apparent he was tilting at windmills

That’s when he gave up and put away his armor, and then she finally noticed him

Layers (an acrostic poem)

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Looking through sheet after sheet of code and information, trying to find his traces

As she peeled back the Tor “onion” server

Yielding few results from her computer forensic investigation

Everything was a matter of time, though

Ridding all traces of her initial hack of the system was well worth the effort

So the things she left behind would point an arrow only to him

Plastic (an acrostic poem)

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Pliable emotions allowed them to bend and not break

Letting the couple withstand so many of life’s issues

And it also let their souls meld into a perfect fit with each other

So it was no surprise to those around that as their features morphed by time’s hands

That it didn’t make a difference to the beauty they saw in each other

It was inspirational to view, to feel

Can something like that be recycled for the betterment of society?

Bury (an acrostic poem)

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Beneath the soil, we planted our elders

Under the shade of the spruce and maple, it

Rooted our community in history

Yet few ever unearthed this resource, preferring to let the dead sleep.

Block (an acrostic poem)

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Being on social media can be so draining

Left and right posts about hot takes and hot button issues

Or the unwanted advances of strangers into personal headspaces

Can make you want to flee and hide under an analog rock

Know that there is a button that might help put a stop to that

Jack (an acrostic poem)

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Just play a game of cards they said.  It will all be fun.

And there I was with a royal flush and a chance to make a couple of quid.

Can’t really lose, so I went all in.  When we showed our hands, one guy just lost it

Know what came next? That bloke chased me to the bathroom with an axe screaming “Here’s Johnny!”