Upon my life you
assume I’ll fight,
how ignorant are you?

You think you are so ugly
you’ve got to express it
through your broken
ego?

Only a bully would be
so shameless, a troll
wants nothing but attention,
the best way to stop it
is ban it before they
say anything else.

Don’t take the trolls
seriously, their just
jealous and ashamed of
their own selves they
have enough problems.

It’s not about you.

Trolls, this is for you…

How low is your IQ?
You can’t relate to others?
Oh wow! you know that
makes you the true problem.

When you’re willing to
dish out the trash you
should be willing to
take it out. We have
trashcans for a reason
you ugly fool.

If you don’t like something
I do, why do you even care
about what I do when you
have a life too?

You’re wasting your life
by waiting for the tolls
to pay out, for one day
it will run out and You
will pay for such evil ways.

So don’t pay the trolls
ban them instead, throw
away all the ugly hate
learn to love yourself
and stop worrying about
everyone else.

Acceptance is the key
to success and prosperity.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

If you give a troll a cookie
He will never stop with just one
Like cancer he'll spread
And infect his poison, just for fun
He used to live under a bridge
Now he resides in our very own community
Stopped he must be, my friends
Lest he terrorize HP with impunity

Little screens often determine whole destinies
people, places, personal items
all graded together on virtual papers
no one ever passes or gets high marks

Faceless denizens of actual realities
unidentified, but still vocal
leaving words of anger in their wake
all over others journals of life

One person breathes in and out
walking, running, sleeping
eating, even laughing sometimes
looking at the sky and smiling to themselves

I have a universe
in my pocket... and some
lint. The world
at my fingertips,
all knowledge awaits
and forty two cents
in change rattles next to it.
I have a universe
in my pocket and what...? I
use it to watch cat videos
and trade petty barbs
with fellow trolls under a bridge.

Their peering eyes sit at the window sill-
Looking in they get their thrill-
A mother's brimming mess they are still-
Trolling HP gives them their fill-
Their calling card speaks ill-
Of good poets swallowing their bitter pill-
Eliot needs to stop this unwanted chill-
Of trolls riding the thumbs down, drill-
Their actions take a good community through the mill-
And ****** if I am going to watch the blades spill-

Logan Robertson

3/19/2018