One day a traveler came to a strange new town,
In the hope of sharing the tales of his journey,
And rest with the comfort of tales he might hear.
But at the threshold of the strange new place,
The traveler met a gatekeeper.
A man of high position by his many braids of gold laid upon him.
The traveler was hoping for guidance and friendship in this new place,
But alas, the gatekeeper not caring about the tale to be told,
But instead with the rules to be kept, said,
"Spamming for an off-site blog?"
The traveler was exhausted and dismayed by the gatekeeper.
For he asked not to hear the tale,
But instead was more angered by the traveler's intrusion,
And he remained steadfast in his resolve to enforce the rules.
Surely this man of the town was well accustomed
to meeting many strangers with stories to be told.
Nay, that needed to be told.
Soon another man with many braids of gold upon him came quickly.
Looked down upon the lowly, ignorant traveler, and said,
"Where are the moderators when you need them?"
The traveler was tired and looking for comfort, for he did have a story to tell.
And was saddened once again that these great men, with the braids of gold upon them,
Had no interest in hearing the tale, but to only respect and enforce the rules of their land.
The tale not as important than the rules, to respect and enforce.
The rules more important than the story to be told.
The traveler was confused by these two stately men at the gate.
Sure they were wise and knew the traveler was only seeking comfort and a place to tell his tale.
But they only looked down upon the traveler,
And did not inquire about the tale,
Nor offer him comfort.
Another gentleman, yea, a constable of the city appeared.
Surely with his standing and many gold braids,
Would offer comfort to the traveler.
But the constable was moved only but slightly, and said,
With a heavenward lilt at the end of his say,
"I thought it might be spam at first, but it seems harmless.
It's not advertising or another and doesn't seem disruptive."
The traveler was saddened and disheartened,
For he thought that this place,
Of all places,
Was a place where stories were meant to be told.
And shared.