[Note: Let’s see how many references my readers will get in this satirical poem.]
Adoration was entitled to the emulators
As I deserved the accolades for being best
Who wants to be first, anyway?
Fighting for medals was a reason of life
I needed no antennae for such a goal
Obstacles to being the pinnacle disappear
With the snap of my gloved fingers
Reaching 9999 levels of power helped
Making sure I won no matter what
I am acclaimed, more than just a carbon copy
You’d be selling me short that way
So all these originals are complaining of my existence, now?
Too bad
Life’s not fair, isn’t it?
Is it really that insidious when you have thousands of adoring fans?
This is the age where clones achieve coronation
