I pity your attempts to slander me,
As devoid of truth as your claims no doubt are,
I can do nothing but scoff at them,
and go about my business.
I haven't a clue what you seek to gain from this,
are you sure you will attain it?
Or, rather, is it a game of chance; hit or miss?
Is this revenge,
over some perceived slight?
Over hushed words exchanged on a cold winter night?
I'll have you know you're mistaken;
you've got the wrong guy.
However, you seem quite content pestering me 'til the day I die.
You, the purveyor of smears and lies.
Won't you just go on and live your life?
Surely, it'd be more interesting than little old me.
When will you see,
that I am in your past, and not your present, nor future?
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