She-Devil

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She looks at me 

With spite in her eyes. The She-Devil.


She's prim and trim, 

Straight-laced wine tasting like water.


Arrogance, a fiery engine red 

She paints on her nails as embellishment.


Her looks are scorn 

As she watches me across her pariah parley.


She calls herself a queen. 

Little does she know she's flanked by Brutuses left and right. 


She snakes an arm around her man, 

Scared I'll steal him. I look into my margarita and smile. 


The chick-en.

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