It is my lot in this existence to sit and wait.
It is for me to watch and not participate.
A judge am I that has grown into the chair
and has become immobile, only offering a glare.
At least my robe conceals my deformity,
yet the whole contraption gives me enormity.
I sit and cast my devastating written blows
about caustic draws and controversial shows.
In those arguing moments of putrid, public stink,
my ravenous pen doth hungers for its bloody ink.
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