A Troll’s Soul – Mickey Collins

Who knew that I’d be low below,

a troll ‘neath a bridge,

waiting for my next toll,

gathering mold

eating stale rolls and making mountains out of mole

skulls

just wanting to haul

someone close to me

 

Knights often want to cross

those Sir Chads make me mad

but I’m a nice guy.

The name’s Ross,

as I tip my hat

to the fair Ladies

 

The Knight sees this as a slight

and wishes to test his might

against my thick green skin

with a hope to win

the Lady’s affection

by killing this infection

 

My skin can defend ‘gainst swords

but not her words

as she cheers him on

Even after he died

she’s on his side

so below again I hide

 

I’ll sometimes whisper dirty things so mean

they make her blush, make him squeam

but it never changes my poor fate

so I stew and become irate

 

And I cry, and wonder why why

why won’t she consider a troll like me

(who’s really a nice guy)

I’d buy her dresses and pour her tea

if she’d only get past my ugly

 

Once I tried to lure a maiden fair

down into my humble lair

by making pretend I was a knight

though my visage would give her a fright

so I hid behind a mask of steel

her heart I soon would steal

but she wasn’t a fan of my piss bottles

or posters of anime models

and so she ran

 

And they all run on sight

but I spy up their skirts so I might

see something of interest

like peach or sweet citrus

if just a flash

as they pass

 

it’s better this way

to be a creep in the deep

unloveable and unwanted

ugly and forgotten

a son misbegotten

the rats even hide from my smell

as others pass by my hell

unknowing and unflinching

uncaring

 

I’m not the only one here

I’ve got friends, other trolls

(all of ’em, nice guys)

a society of the deformed never to reform

cursed since being born

we ran from the scorn

but they’re as bad at conversation as I

so it’s pretty qui-

et

 

Below this bridge is our home

keeps us safe from the storms

though I can’t help but feel more

that it’s all something of a metaphor

 

 

 

Mickey rights wrongs. Mickey wrongs rites. Mickey writes words, sometimes wrong words but he tries to get it write.

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