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YourTurnSubscriberWrites: A War of Words between a victim and an abuser—a poem

SubscriberWrites: A War of Words between a victim and an abuser—a poem

A raw poetic face-off between a victim and abuser lays bare the anatomy of online hate, revealing how words wound—and how resistance begins with refusing silence.

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With our social (media) spaces getting invaded by toxicity, I take a gritty look at the phenomenon of abuse through a poetic dialogue.  

 

A War of Words Between a Victim and an Abuser

 

Abuse? 

Just abuse

Just like that? 

You want excuse? 

You want reason?

Justification? 

Apology? 

Really? 

You must be kidding 

I think you’re disturbed 

You really don’t know how it works?

Dolt, that’s the way of the world.

 

That’s pure bunkum. 

If you allow me a minute, 

I’ll put things in perspective. 

 

If you only want to hear yourself speak,

go stand on the roof and scream.

You can complain in solitary splendour 

Trust me, no one will hear 

all your raving and ranting. 

I beg to differ. 

My words are measured

My arguments coherent 

My tone is controlled 

I have done nothing to be mocked and trolled.  

You think I owe you a response 

for the abuse that is “well-deserved”. 

As a matter of fact, you do. 

 

Stop mewling like a baby 

Look within

What are you doing

to force people to stoop to such lengths? 

Oh God! What are you doing to draw out the worst 

in people who won’t even want to hurt an insect?

Why do you get so easily worked up?

Your very existence is the bane of this world!

Your blood-shot eyes, your clenched fist,

proclaim your self-triggered malice.

Go away! You self-pitying dimwit.         

Why are you determined to tear me to bits? 

How tiring it is to get rid 

of even a speck of dirt! 

In case you didn’t get the clue,

it’s a reference to you. 

Yes, you got that right. 

That speck of dirt is “You”.

You and your ilk deserve to be kicked in the butt

And yet, I try my best to ignore you pests 

But you give me no credit for my restraint 

I give you enough time to breathe …

Before I strike again.  

So, what’s your bloody problem then? 

You’ve called me a clown, a b*tch, a mad cat. 

Oh, so you take offence to offensive language! 

Since when was “b*tch” an insult?

I use it as an endearment for my female friends  

Not for you though

With you, I’m in deadly earnest. 

It’s amazing how you proudly defend what you do

with such a malicious intent. 

And since you’re so eager to offend,                          

I’ll pave the way for you to say 

whatever pops into your head. 

 

I will scream till you take to your heels 

So, you better keep your mouth shut 

It’s in your best interest. 

Tell me, what’s wrong in abusing 

the bleeding hearts 

feeling for every bloody cause?

We’re ruining the world 

with all these crusaders, truth-tellers, 

Good Samaritans … whatever. 

It’s time we stop pampering 

these silly do-gooders 

bent on protecting cry-babies and weaklings,

unfit to handle the slings 

of a fate

determined by the high and mighty, 

whose word alone carries weight. 

Have you spewed all the venom 

coursing through your veins? 

Looks like there’s more coming my way … 

Yes, you moron, I’m not yet done 

If abuse is the destiny of some 

useless cat, dog, human … 

Why do you create such a mayhem? 

 

Are you afraid of taking responsibility? 

 

Afraid? Me? 

Not even in your wildest dreams! 

I’m stronger than steel 

with a great sense of responsibility.  

I keep people in their place 

so that no dares to dream 

of a world infected with fairness. 

To hell with democracy, diversity 

and all that claptrap! 

Let the mighty rule with strictness 

and use every means 

for their worthy ends.  

All that I can gather from your tiresome tirade 

is that there is no end to your meaningless hatred. 

All right, now I’ve had enough 

I know how to set straight 

you and your kind— 

the scourge of this age. 

Insult, abuse, malign, isolate

Banish all talk of uniting with our “brethren”  

Or healing the trauma of so-called victims.  

Those who know the art of abuse 

are also spurred on by their muse. 

Never heard anything more gross. 

Who said abuse is ugly?

It has a special kind of beauty  

that you whimpering fools 

will never be able to see. 

So, get lost instantly 

and set the world free 

from your unwanted presence.

The world is not your kingdom 

There’s place for every single person 

You can bully me all you want 

But I’m not going to run 

You’re blinded by Hate, my friend  

But Hate is a beast with a limited lifespan 

Sooner or later, it overplays its hand 

That’s when the game ends. 

Hate is its own enemy 

Don’t be its willing slave 

It’s a free country 

So, why choose to be in chains? 

Despite all your toxicity, 

I’m willing to shake hands 

 

It’s never too late to make a change.

These pieces are being published as they have been received – they have not been edited/fact-checked by ThePrint.

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