a poem by tobias kerins, UK

She can cast a spell with her wicked eyes
She can spin a web of hateful lies
She can play the game she knows the rules
She treats you like one of those fools

The moral high ground she likes to take
There is no shame she is a fake
At her most dangerous when your back is turned
Try not to have your fingers burned

She is as cold as ice but burns with rage inside
She is slippery can smoothly slide
She is masterful and calls the shots
She ties you up in a string of knots

To play the victim she is so good
As she cries out for Robin Hood
You were rich and she was poor
But now it’s her that has much more

She could sell sand to the Arabs and the Eskimos ice
She will hit double six when she throws the dice
She will twist and turn and quietly cajole
She is the master of disguise and owns the role

How of the people she gains the trust
Seeking attention she will always lust
Standing high on her pedestal
Creating misery for other’s downfall

She is not Queen of Hearts but Ace of Spades
She constantly the truth evades
She cannot spell this word called truth
She is coolly callous and so uncouth

No Man's Land
The Maltese Falcon Vol V
The Olive Branch

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