A/N
I own nothing,
but a rhyme or two.
I don't earn money,
I write for myself
and, dear reader,
You.
With a face of the toad
She struts around
And gloats.
Students hope
She'll break her legs,
But nothing happens.
She giggles and chuckles,
With her work
for Ministry she brags.
Not a word must be said against her
Or you'll have to write with that awfull quill.
And your precious blood will be spilled.
Brave students
Will form a resistance,
Try to clean up her mess.
With a few words,
Bitter lies
that mustn't be told,
She's now in the Forrest
Surrounded with a herd.
Not of unicorns or other gentle creatures,
But those worse than giants,
Especially when you insult them,
Like she so stupidly had,
Now she might finish up dead.
Centaurs are ready with their bows,
Glaring at her and sharpening their arrows,
But she's too stupid to see how dangerous
This situation is, so she continues to insult,
No one can be as stupid as she is.
Where is she now? Lying in the hospital bed.
Doctors say she's gone completely mad.
Seems like some centaurs got her pretty bad
Because now she's completely messed up in her head.
Perhaps she'll now stop wearing pink and start dressing in red?
It would've been better if she finished dead.