A Woman’s Scorn
I've never stayed so angry with someone in my entire life!
I'll spend no more time his subservient wife!
He's transparent but thinks I have no clue.
Little does he know that I see he's infectious like a flu!
Dishin' out mind control, abuse, and anxiety...
Whatever his diagnosis here's my reverse psychiatry:
I am phenomenal. An acquired taste;
but, like a drug, addictive. My curves all laced.
Tread careful. Hasn't he learned
that at my point break he'll be the one concerned?
Cuz this woman's scorn is a feeling so passionate!
My mouth writes a check, and his ass'll be cashin' it!
Oh, I enjoy how these tables have turned.
So don't play with fire if you don't want burned.
For him my love dwindled, but my memory will linger.
He'll remember my touch when all he gets is middle finger.
Situation has reversed. I'll walk away and he's left with nothing.
Our Thanksgiving is Thursday. No turkey. No stuffing.
I hope he'll feel less than a man, and question his libido.
While he tries to be Micheal when, at best, he's a Tito!
And he's always comin' up short on whoever we owe!!
While debt consumes him I'll step on his toe.
I toss him out to live in trash, but first I've get to warn
Nip it in the bud, Tito, or beware of my scorn.