Stop Asking?
Files arrive with a smile,
a wink,
and a nod.
Or they trickle down,
the drips from a leaky ceiling,
bad news arriving, staining,
and costing.
You need to click.
They demand your attention.
(So shiny!)
They promise you others' secrets.
(While demanding all yours.)
They warn you of impending doom.
(Not far from the truth.)
You have to click.
and the smiles drop,
the ceiling crashes down,
and you are left to wade
through unfriendly faces
offering you a life jacket
for a price.
"But what if
those smiles had been genuine
and there really was
a hole that needed patching?"
(How could you know?)
The next file arrives
and while holding a mop,
you ask again.
