She scorns all your thoughts – she can’t afford many.
She mocks at your beauty, for she hasn’t any.
Her favorite chores are snuffing the wick,
pinching the sprout and lobbing the brick.
She wants it all stripped, to show you the bones
and say, “here’s the blood-sack you thought was Jones!”
Here’s Lady Contempt, for you all to look at.
‘Like’ if you’re someone she once threw the book at.