Paparazzi Poet

You never forget your aim,
to find someone to blame
for the degenerating shame
of the wars of digital flame
you gleefully ignite,
spreading chaos and lies in your wake,
telling others to awake,
that evils threaten, their wills to break,
to ostracize, for fuck's sake,
torturing the mark for each mistake
they are goaded to make
by your convoluted plot
to make tempers hot,
when they respond, they're caught,
and their disgrace is wrought,
as you delete the cause,
the inflammatory attacks
that pushed them till their backs
were against the wall,
and you keep pushing til they fall,
because their reputation, you'll maul,
and their followers, appall
with your savagery.
But your game isn't fixed,
and the outcomes are mixed,
for they know your tricks,
and they stand proud,
ranks composed,
faces severe, silent,
waiting for the moment
when you go too far

(c) Tortured Cyclone 2017