She never gets tired of the sympathy visits.
The hugs, the tsk tsks,
the chorus’ of “oh, you poor dear”
So what she broke a bone?
It’s not like her heart lay open – split in the middle like a bagel ready for toasting.
I know she smiles when her visitors leave
How she says, “that’s better” while stuffing bon-bons in her cheeks.
Then another knock on the door and her face turns solemn again.
What a sham by a scam artist!
Doesn’t she know that people have real worries to contend with?
I can’t sympathize with the plight of an artificial pansy.
“All things are relative,” you say?
Well, I’m glad she’s not related to me.