The Garden of Mordacity

Her house is really beautiful
It’s quiet and serene;
The roses in the garden red
Along the hedges green

The garden’s an achievement
In which she takes much pride:
It makes for quite a contrast with
What’s going on inside

The house is full bitter spite
That grows with every year:
The biting, gnawing hatred there
Beneath the calm veneer

For she has everything she wants
Among the idle rich:
But still she leads a joyless life
A scathing

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