Pathetic how they scurry ‘round,
fearing something I have found.
Stalking in-store and online,
passively, for they have no spine.
Cringing when they hear me laugh
or see me taking photographs.
Eavesdropping in conversations.
Hating on that uppity, brazen
bitch making things hard
when this entire canard
is of their own making.
The target I was staking
had truly wronged me,
but in their vanity
they moved the gun barrel
to face them, to their peril,
then in pompous dictum
declared themselves victim
and me their enemy.
So mote it be.
Their daily gaffes
give quite a laugh,
while the feud they're inciting
has inspired some great writing.
Like this:
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They can’t think for themselves. They don’t even know they’re trapped in a fake reality.