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A poetry virgin... that was me
going through a purple patch,
a dismal dark period in life
Desperately needing an outlet
to focus on instead of the now...
this trying time I had to endure

I joined Poetry Soup to have fun
My ultimate aim was just
to bring a smile to others.
But 'HE' couldn’t stand the fact
that what I called my simple scribbles
were more popular than his sonnets...
He considered himself a poetry God
and me? He referred to me as
just a pathetic poet, penning poop

So, the belittling of my poems,
and the cruel comments about them began

He was SO desperate to be top dog,
even challenging me to a poetry duel.
The tide of his anger turned against me 
as if they were waves trying to crush me.
He was obsessed with putting me down,
drowning me in his wake.

I was at an all-time low ebb in life
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.
My notepad scribbles were smudged,
stained with the torrent of my tears
My pen bled ink blots like blood,
then dried up like a creek devoid of rain.
For seven dismally long days, I wrote nothing.

BUT powerful persuasion from poetry pals
forced me to face the reality I needed to see.
"Why should you allow that puffed up pompous prick
to stop you from writing what you feel?"

That was a wakeup call for me.
More than just a change in the wind.
Eleven years have passed; I am STILL here...
with two books published under my name.
There are still trolls who like to torment
and demean me, I will never, EVER...
give another troll the opportunity to do me in!

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