Death of a troll
From the safety of his enclosed room
the man who doesn't qualify to be a midget
whose esteem is distraught by the world
wracks his rage and masturbatory frustration
though keystrokes of snide insults
and thinks what are they going to do
as he hacks the system with viral...
"For a dollar I tell your fortune"
barks the harker, soliciting
The tatooed weather worn flesh
of my free verse, nicotine stained
The peeling paint and rusting bolts
of a school picnic tragedy
Once I stalked these fair grounds
to find a fair haired girl, my age
to woo and strain form happiness...