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A look in the mirror

will not reveal

the putrid form

hidden beneath

an inch of make-up.

Expensive clothes

to hide the cheap

nature of the mind so low.

Inside the decay grows.

Forked tongue, a breath so foul, empty promises as empty as your soul – you have no soul

You don’t see it, but with every lie the rotting flesh falls off your bones – still you stand bold

Behind it all – the money shot plan,

the one goal that you know

Find and marry a rich old man

The bald dome shines like gold

Feline stalker,

Feminine hunter

Look for the unsuspecting prey

Wealthy widower,

unhealthy oldtimer

Sink your claws in the human game

Like sirens you sing your song

You smile and flash your thong

Viagra could be confused with

rat poison, just make him consume it

Wed him, bed him

Wait for him to die

Collect the good wife’s prize

The good wife’s prize

He’s dead, you’re left

Now you feel alive

But you’ve been dead all the time

Dead all your life

You have dug

your own tomb

Ground has sunk

upon you

There’s no one

left to fool