A poem about internet trolls



We log in first thing and get ready to do
the utmost we can to enrage and upset.
We’re fresh in the morning, preparing to spew
our bile and our anger all over the net.

We ‘like’ what we like and we hate what we hate.
We trash what you write and defile what you say.
We don’t give a toss for politeness. Too late
to muffle our wrath – it engulfs us all day!

We don’t work in gangs; we are lonely and screwed.
We fire off our comments without thinking first.
Our outlook is vile and our language is lewd.
We’re shut in our mind-sets, we all do our worst.

We’re here in our millions, winning the game
of who can beat who in the old war of words.
Don’t tell us to go back to school. It’s our aim
to call out the wankers, the twats and the turds.

We’re only online, so not much can be done
to follow our profiles and keep us in tow.
Who cares what we type when the moment has gone?
What’s past is soon past and there’s no-one to know.

We are trolls, we are bullies, we’re nasty and mean;
we hide behind masks, we spit all over you.
We’re loud but we’re hidden; we’re heard but not seen.
You can’t catch a bully who’s sad through and through.