Play Dirty On Moral Grounds.

As a kid when playing football and rugby, From the moment of kick-off my opponents, Dearly loved to get in an early tackle, Even when it was late. To try to injure or hamstring. To cause one to crash and burn. To remove one early from the game. People fuelled by anger, And filled with petty jealousies. Then when I grew up I found, Life was like that. For some people enjoy hurting or try to hurt others. They would love to see the entire world burn and everyone in it. They would light a stick of dynamite at both ends to ensure it goes off. Life's idiots. And literally just over a year ago when first I joined here, And to this day, I am getting day after day, time after time, poem after poem, Plagued and harassed by one cowardly member leaving, His vile and jealous comments. Even on the children's poems I write. And I found out I'm not the only one. There are many more, Constantly being harassed by this poetry idiot. One I know has even left here due to his haranguing. I know what he looks like. I know his name. His real name. And his age. And at his late age he really should know better. If I ever met him face to face. On moral grounds. I'll break his bloody jealous legs. Now I'll start writing some poetry. And calm down.