Poison Ivy
We called her sweet Ivy, trying to pretend
That she was not poisonous, someone to defend
Ivy was truly an anomaly, someone to avoid if you could.
We stayed our distance as any normal human would.
Her three husbands had died mysteriously.
She danced on their graves, wild and free.
The usual suspect, in every single case.
The next to date her was a guy named Chase.
We tried to warn him, but he did not listen.
Fooled by her hazel eyes that danced and glistened.
“If I do not marry her, what will be the harm?”
Chase asked us, taken in by her guile and charm.
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