Crawl back to your
de-fertilization zone…
that empty place you inhabit,
constructed by your own
abandoned dreams
Its’ walls covered with the graffiti
of your skewed vision
and hopeless attempts
to achieve, in the very least,
some sustaining recognition
for your fruitless efforts.

The crumbling attitude
of your protective shell
doesn’t allow for you to see beyond
your own jealous thoughts

Venturing into areas you know nothing about
Assailing those whose lives
are so much richer than your own,
you pretend to know everything,
and ‘everything’ is quite a hard sell
in the real world.

Presumption sets your course
to a destination that never existed.
A parochial road-map
Of broad continents and tabloid thoughts,
joined together and too tightly constricted
to allow for any
oceans of insightful depth

You pontificate and rally
like a word-whore
to those you despise,
yet depend on, to provide you a
warped sense of self-importance
that feeds your arrogant
pride of nothingness.

Using anonymity as a shield
you target your prey
with obsessive gestures of good-will
subversively feeding
on crumbs of fantasy
Crumbs that fuel
your demented vision of reality

Comfortable in your lackluster
distorted, menial existence
you betray those closest to you
Unaware, they nurture your thin veneer
Unbeknownst to them
you lead a secret life
A traitor lost
somehow believing you are above it all,
that you could never be unmasked

But unwittingly you bragged
in an arrogant rebuttal to the truth
You let it slip
Revealed your primordial dysfunction
Exposed your twisted disease
Admitted to one of the many guises you created
to fill your own inadequacies
then tried clumsily to erase your tracks
running like a coward to the
protective arms of those
who remain ignorant
of your deception

You thought you could silence the truth
and took to the low ground
donning a silicon suit and touting
your credibility 
A sub-competent slave
in the universe of micro-data

From your demented vacuum
you gaze in envy,
at those more earnest and real
who love and laugh
who live life
who provide ample sustenance and growth
for themselves and  their families
while your own half-hearted misguided
efforts continue to fall far short of affording you
even the most modest closet-space
in the universe of relevant thought.

You are lost in Cyberland
reduced to a few quickly deleted bytes
A perverted stalker in disguise
Laying bait with a phony smile
A bad script
A guy with no balls…
No real identity
Grasping for acknowledgment
from a small audience of none
Feeding on meaningless accolades
provided by a dissolving
base of misled gullible peers

The substance of your life

is as thin as your plot-lines,
and forgettable weak attempts
at sub-standard half-plagiarized prose

The truth is your enemy
As you graze
amongst the shadows of delusion
invading other’s lives

I won’t say “I have hope for you”
‘cause I’m not one to genuflect to a fraud
But, as much as I hate it
I actually feel sorry for people like you
Maybe…Just maybe
You could still touch the world
The world you know so little about
The world outside your myopic online life

On second thought

That won't ever happen
'cause you just don't have the balls

Oh well, perhaps I’m not such an optimist after all
A realist is more like it in this case
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