Mark on Trial

He admitted to the mistake

A grave misstep

But they wanted more.

The people. For the people,

We needed more.

The courtroom lined with concern.

Citizens. Concerned citizens,

Who themselves checked

The culprit’s innovation  

Moments before.

Checked to update the people

So they might know

How concerned they stood

Of the people, for the people

Lead in with procession,

He at fault.

For not understanding the power

Of information

Their information, our information

Handed over to become his

Information. But it wasn’t.

It was ours and so, stolen.

For this, he was summoned

Hair cut, suit trim. Sandals gone

Hoodie gone.

The casual shroud so infuriating

Gone at last.

You know you messed up Mark?  

“Yes”

But we don’t think you know.

“What else must I say?”

The people flinched unsure,

Certain only that

The culprit must both pay and cure.

To accept fault wasn’t enough

Regret either;  

How does one quantify the contrition  

Of failed prophecy?

The concerned citizens stood unconfirmed

Yet they stood sure the man

gifted himself abiding wealth

As the keeper of our integrities

Self appointed! we claim.

We, the appointees.

Famous men we love to raise

To praise the ways they fall.

So falls the man that curated

Our faces, places, and words

For weren’t affirmations

Positive connotations

And Favor so vital

To both expose and not return?

So we take it back.

You, me, the people.

The promise was not kept, Mark.
Loneliness ever present,
Exposure not controlled.
It is now your turn to fall
From that exalted mold.