my keen animal sense can easily sniff you out
hiding there behind your mother's ample skirts
even in your precious preferred cowardice
that spite you wield does slice so wide and deep
and your malice burns like acid through my soul
i know your primal belly aches to scream and howl
while ripping flesh and spilling blood and guts
to show the rest of us your furious raging ire
but your mummy dearest won't e'er allow it so
so you hum and haw and priss and futz about
until the time our backs are turned away, and then
those well honed claws and fangs come into play
when the fuss and dust has cleared and settled
with bloody gore and carnage strewn all about
you're again well hidden hind your mother's skirts
looking oh so meek and blameless for everyone to see
"goodness gracious, how could it have been me ?" say you
"mummy dearest wouldn't have it, don't you see ?"
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