His eyes brimmed with woe,

“You’re wrong, because I know I’m right.”

“Nope, you’re the idiot that thinks that way.  Moron, you’re remarks are merely trite.”

Did he know these people? No.  But they still made him sad,

Arguing over things that were only just a fad.

People were stuck in their ways, their status quo.


Words on the page exploded in his eyes,

Sending him in reverse, dodging every line-every word that uttered out a curse.

Bile clambered up his throat on to his stainless tongue, each line becoming worse.

Don’t they listen to the golden rule, and treat one another fair?

Apparently in the adult world the feelings of others and yours do not compare.

Load the profanities and the notion of a marquis, prepare for battle and gain your allies.


He scrolled down the screen

Reading the remarks left by anonymous users

They attacked a wonderful article, those horrid abusers!

Steam boiled inside of him

That was the last straw!  It struck him like shim

Burrowing within.  Gone were all his attempts at a mien.


Strokes of fingers clambered away at the smooth keyboard,

The clicking and smacking of the letters filled the boy’s heart with rage.

A sinister smile wriggled on his mouth, the vile words were let free from their cage,

Unleashing unknown anger upon the anonymous browsers,

The people against him were the tiny mice and he the mouser

He wielded the words in prepare for onslaught, because of nothing more than being bored.


Enter, he pressed.  Posting vile squabble to the place where nothing can return,

Screen stared at him, mocking him, scolding him, criticizing him

“What have I done?” he cried.  “I’ve hurt those by posting on a whim!

“They’ve done nothing to me.  Those repugnant posts have corrupted me!”

Quickly he acted, pulling back up the page trying to set him free

From the prison he created, he moved with much concern.


He tried and tried, but much to his dismay all the scurrying was all in vain,

For nothing that is posted can be deleted from the black hole,

One must recognize their temper and keep it under control.

Who knows who reads what is published on the internet,

It might make someone shatter because of being beset,

The joy and excitement that this place exulted, has begun to wane.


Be careful what you say,

You cannot take it back,

Those who admire you may only be a claque.

Keep dear the feelings of others,

Don’t say something that you would say to your mother.

When you’re out there on your own, be sure not to bray.


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