Troll

Starling, from an Edwardian print

It started with an observation, inviting easy conversation,
limited in character, with a limit to its characters:
a statement,
a sharing,
just casual information.

Anticipating backchat I introduced a hashtag,
innocuous I hoped:
this was no dissertation.
But what I got was cruel flak,
full of bile,
angry,
vile,
a tweet of hateful defamation.

A vicious far-right bigot preached a creed too awful to ignore.
I’d thought my fine right thinking speech would carry all before.
Joined by others, screeching, twittering,
startled starlings in a frenzied flock,
what choices did they choose to leave me?
Well, just one, which was to block.

You think you’re altogether very clever?
You’re just a witless bullying clown.
You won’t defeat or even beat me, and you’ll fail to grind me down.

You unkind,
online,
soulless troll
with death cult insults and selfish goals,
I hope you learn the tide will turn
and send you crawling to your hole.


Another poem written for writing class, adopting another’s voice, but I add this advice:

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