This neighborhood’s brimming with trolls.
They burrow and creep just like voles.
They’re assured of their right
Just because they have might–
If so mighty, why hide in your holes?
I can hear you each scamper and scurry.
What’s the need to disperse in a flurry?
If the high ground is yours
Then why hide behind doors?
It makes all of your insults too blurry.
Are the trolls on the payroll just wondering
At their Troll King’s repetitive blundering?
Do they wonder what thing’s
Crawled inside the Troll King
To explain all his bluster and thundering?
Or perhaps this assessment’s too mean,
And the king’s not at fault for his spleen.
He just does what he’s told
By a shrill squawking scold–
He’s enthralled by a harpy Troll Queen.
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