Social responsibility: Life with 3000 Friends

This week if the current trajectory maintains I will cross the 3000 mark in terms of twitter followers. Just to point out I don't write this to brag - im not even sure what I've done to gain 3000 followers to be honest with you - but for one reason another I have. The point is it got me thinking about our own levels of personal responsibility over what we do online. I am no public figure, nor celebrity or in any official sense a leader. However I some how feel a sense of duty to those 3000 people and in a wider collective sense to the world to take my place in it with a certain level or care.

We've all seen what power social media, freedom of speech and willingness to speak out can do to the world - this year more than ever and I can't help but feel at some point as a Christian and as someone who is just as concerned as the next guy about our economy, government etc - that it may not be long before I along with all those who are confused, concerned and can communicate will need to join together to help get things done. And when that time comes - I hope I will. And if you follow me on twitter, well I hope you will too.

As is becoming a norm this thought manifested itself in poetic form before I even realised I felt this way so here is that poem. It's called Social Responsibility for all the obvious reasons.

Social Responsibility

What happened when The self righteous are unseated By the murmuring of the crowd The twittering of the unseen masses of minds bending flowing and ebbing as one

What happens when the pedastle crumbles under you When the unseen jibes become the scene that brings it all to the fore the fall too much to bare when you know it was your own whittering that got you there.

What is happening when the digital nudgings of those unsettled and unsettling, spills over into the those who just live destruction. Uinformed, Unchecked and Unkempt let loose on the Unwilling and Unforgiving, who try forbidding the outcry of a generation lost in the postcode bidding war for the riches of those stealing from the poor. What are they all aching for?

What will happen when the ones who finally found their voice have it hidden again? Drowned out by those with so much to gain from keeping the down trodden down and out of the spot light. What happens when we don't see the pain? It is us who bare the shame.