Here, have a poem I am not ashamed of.
WARNING: Nasty, two-faced mothers ahead.
Claimer: Mother is mine, much to my displeasure. I really want to slap her.
----- ----- -----
Mother: Poor Children
o, you
poor dears, children
o, you
poor dears!
I told you
to stay clear
but you
wouldn't listen
o, you
poor dears!
o, you
poor loves, children
o, you
poor loves!
heed now
what you hear
or your
eyes will glisten
o, you
poor loves!
o, you
poor innocent children
o, you
poor children!
this will
make you straight
and teach
you to obey
o, you
poor children!
o, you
poor darlings, children
o, you
poor darlings!
though
this warning comes late
there will
be agony to pay
o, you
poor darlings!
----- ----- -----
I'm sure it doesn't take a very long time spent in her company to discover that she only means half of what she says. Gross.
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