A Woman's Scorn
Hell has no fury like a woman's scorn.
Her words can stab you coldly in the heart.
She blames it all on you when she is worn,
Although you may not even play a part.
Though hell is hot, its fire cannot compare
With that of woman when she's feeling wronged.
Attempting to approach her, if you dare,
Will only make her anger more prolonged.
She spits out things she doesn't really mean,
Such idle threats that never come to pass.
But if you tell her they will not be seen,
She turns into a furi'us, beastly mass.
Yet when her storm of hellish scorn has passed,
Her love returns so deep, so wide, so vast!
