Slippery Pricks and Rotting Roses

The shrinking violet has made her way back. for another round of acidic attacks. Blaming the sun for her shadows, the mirror for all her cracks. The mad queen of monkeys, leading a gnashing troop. Tossing stones and madly lashing While slinging vicious verbal poop.... Driving all the flavor from the soup, There she sits atop self-pity hill. Bible in one claw-acid in the krill, Hopping from kill to kill to kill. Your hue of loneliness is self-inflicted. Carefully look back at the paths and weaponry you chose. A path of slippery pricks -deep crevasse and rotting bouquet of rose. It's well past time you grow out and shed that ugly mold.