Trolling
Plastic bags and paper moles,
The internet is full of trolls.
Who will not mock me to my face,
On my religion, thoughts, and race.
But when they hide behind a screen,
And think their actions go unseen,
By everyone except for me,
They spew out venom gleefully.
I am, to them, no longer me,
But just a name upon the screen.
To be the bulls eye of their rounds,
The "idiot" ripe to tear down.
Snickering that, regrettably,
The world produced someone like me.
Poetry Slam: