footprints

one by one
in the sunlight
of technology
they step forward
and confess.
a dollar
stolen, a mistress
in the closet.
a lie
or two told
when pretending
to be good
and true.
each key stroke
a footprint
of where you've
gone and strayed.
who escapes
the light, not
even the dead
and departed
are free
to go about
their way
in peace,
unblemished
not in this day
and age.