You called me, repetitiously, "Fairy Jerry":
your efforts displayed your spiritual entropy
often shouted, or whispered, of which I became wary
despite that, I have posted my poetry,
the poetry I have chosen
undaunted by the meanness of your egos' swell.
By my face you were offended; and by my voice when you heard
it: I was not good enough to be accepted among you at all.
Now my poems bear witness to this, and are signed . . . Starward.