She laughs, and she cries, without even a breath,
Those that do see her are puzzled, perplexed.
How she switches so quickly, one mood to the next,
She thinks it’s her game, and she’ll win at it yet.
The laughs and the tears, are nothing to her,
She knows the faucet to turn; she’ll win to be sure.
The in’s and the out’s, she fills with such vile,
No respect for what’s round her, she's absent of style.
Untrue is the manner, that she does present.
She makes all that do meet her, wonder what will come next.
Praise her as a woman, or shoo away as a pest.
She’s shrewd and she’s cunning, a fox on hen’s nest.
Stay away if you can, run away if you must,
Know you are lucky, and value its cost.
That woman would shred you, for her it’s a must.
Scream thank you, be glad; escape those talons for once.
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