They say you ought not to look a gift horse in the mouth,
but between the clenched teeth of the weaponized smile,
An apple glistens toxic ruby for the fairest of the south
Her? Perhaps the fairest in a mile.
The truth doesn’t hurt,
he’s in Cairo,
wading in ‘de Nile.
Stop with your alternative facts,
look in the mirror, look at me,
don’t be sly, I know for that –
Her nose is too long?
Yes, the hump in the middle, it blocks my sun-
she points her head North and there it goes,
my day is done.
Stop with the noise, Queen Basically-Seventeen,
heed my message, my warning,
and get off your heightened noble steed!
the gap between her two front teeth.
It whistles her secrets as she soundly sleeps.
Between each snore, she admits vile happenings
much uglier than the one she admitted before!
Your highness –
Queen: Oh you will choke, and wheeze, and gasp on regret if you don’t agree.
I will welcome bad luck of seven years with a high chin,
or so help me, –
Oh look you’re stomping your feet, Fee Fi Fo, Flee.
I am the gate to a higher transformation, and it is not I who is in great and dire need.
As long I’m Chef there will be nothing to eat but shame,
Her knuckles whiten in defeat and she will remember,
This is my house, and this house has my name.
You detest her for not playing your games,
but the apple may be an inappropriate answer for a girl of 21.
She is a Tiny Dancer and like a silly princess she awaits an Elton John;
all that love hunger, clearly no pride.
In the Hudson river, I’ll dump her, funny how she just couldn’t comply.
The contract with such heavy strings,
Like a baby refusing it’s mother’s breast milk,
Is this how we’re going to face things?
Your ego is bruising but have you no guilt.
Guilt! Who is the one that should have guilt?
My queen –
Her self dug grave; I hate when my Jimmy Choos
Trip over the inching roots
of that god forsaken rotting tree.
Down in that basement;
Her self neglect, must get her wet,
she must be seizing with glee.
On her tombstone it will say,
here lies she. Queen seventeen
told her ‘you know, I worry about you pet.’
So… (her foot taps three times)
What don’t you get?
But you cross your signals with a catch two and two,
Kisses that seep into a sting is not the thing to do.
She’s far too fat, now she’s far too skinny
what diet is she on? She eats nothing but carbs but sits there pretty.
Her kindness is an act, I dug in her dresser to prove.
How dare she not like me, not accept my manipulation like a fool!
She bats her eyelashes and the King just listens,
she has to be sleeping with him.
She adjusts her bra and aims her tits with such precision!
Um, she’s his niece? And, I believe what you are referring to is Puberty, and that’s out of her control.
What’s that you say? Are you calling me a troll?
I shall shatter you, and get your universal laws annulled.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend,
we don’t have to bond, but you better pretend.