The Viper

Lace weaves around her limbs

like a Black Widow’s web.

A serpent in the grass...

She watches the funeral procession pass

from the church window.

She uses hundreds like tissues.

Gold falls from her eyes.

They are truly fake tears

cascading like an avalanche

so no one catches her charade.

When the daughter lands it big,

she becomes a banshee, shrieking.

The viper coils tight,

getting ready for a fight.

Money makes people see red for green.