She looks upon my work
With an ever present glare
With her pen in hand
She marks without a care
And from that pen
Flows an evil ink
To devestate each word
That you could ever think
Soon that ink engulfs
All the thoughts you've used
You know that those words
Leave her nothing but amused
Or maybe she is angered
By your choice of words
But you knew that she was critical
At least thats what you had heard
But nothing's right
To her I say
But what can I do
That's just the price I pay
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