You think you’re gonna win it
But first you gotta go in it.
Master of debate?
More like Master of deflate!
Your ego takes a pounding
as you struggle for your logic,
but as you slip and slide on down,
your points grow more necrotic.
“Necrotic? Stop it. You never even stay on topic.
So many tangents you go on…. the initial premise? you even forgot it.
My ego is inflated, as a matter of fact, go ahead and massage it.
These debates, I hog it. Beat it up and flog it. My tactics are priceless, that’s why you can’t seem to understand what the cost is!” Nav A
Cost? It’s free! This means nothing to me!
A moment’s recreation, a play thing of my mindscape.
What’s this violence you crave?
Those words? Absurd!
Fractioned pebbles of your earnest, pushing, desperate, pleas of relevance. To notice – for purpose – of acknowledging your existence.
Good boy! You exist! Here’s your pat on the head.
I’ll throw a frisbee
and you’ll chase it
and when you catch it,
you’ll be happy
that you beat me when in fact all you did is just play the game.