Trolling Fogies

Purposely in the way of progress.
And determined to redirect,
The balance of nature.
With their fossilized philosophy.

Trolling fogies.
Long too old yet internet users.
Attempting to turn back time to stop it.
Hoping to fool and trick,
The young and those much too hip.
Capable to recognize,
The origin of ancient B.S.
Its smell and from where it drifts.

'Who are these idiots?'

'Whacked out quacks.
Trying to hack us with their crap!'

Trolling fogies.
Strolling slowly through moss and mold.
Throwing a stone to see it roll,
Will get to a destination...
Days before those fogies arrive.

And yet...
They are convinced their bottoms sit,
Permanently in positions...
Of age and rusting leadership.
Keeping standards to value,
Hoping to keep unchanged.
No matter and regardless of the time,
We have come to live...
Trolling fogies insist,
Footsteps around them moving swift...
Will one day miss,
The way their efforts to endeavor...
Eventually got things done.
Although...
Awaiting they did,
For a steam train to come.

'You old folks?
No intentional disrespect.
But...
Do you mind moving out of the way?
You are blocking the delivery,
Of our drones.
With your groans and moans,
About how things were done yesterday!'

'You are going to miss us!'

'If you move to allow history to do that.
We just may find the time,
To research your past to have had.
With a celebrating your accomplishments.
But for now...
You're in the way.
With your cavalier attempts...
To revive what has gone.