A poem for anons
Each new anon is another raindrop.
As the storm builds anons flood the sky and flow down the mountains and through the forests to the valley.
As anon after anon joins in the small creeks and rivulets combine into a fast flowing river.
Rising up the canyon walls, overflowing the banks, more and more anon drops join the fray.
As the frothing foam spills and bursts through rapids and bends, the river full with spirit grinds away at the earth.
Forming, shaping and removing the layers of lies with the rivers abrasive powers of suspension.
Then off the cliff they go. The biggest waterfall in the world, all started with a handful of anons armed with the Truth.
Smashing ahead, no holds barred, into the delta. Fertilizing the fields of a new generation. Then into the sea of life.
Watch the water.
Anons are not divided.
Godspeed Q team