It is not nice of you,
To make me cry.
So you can console me,
Later.
You are no angel of mercy,
Though you have the looks,
And aspire to be one.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing?

I detect,
A streak of malice,
A dollop of jealousy,
And there you are.
I confess,
You do have your good points;
A pity,
I can’t recall any.
But, then
I am no friend of yours.