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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...