In the Glass

She puts on her morning face
Lipstick, eyeliner and the blush
She does so at a gentle pace
And not at all inclined to rush

He sees her image in the mirror
The woman that stole his love
The steam is gone and glass is clear
And he then thanks the Lord above

But then he picks up on the scales
The reptile color of her eyes
He stares to long, and then he pales
So long used to her human lies

She gets fed up and turns on him
So tired of his simple mind
Indulging in the slightest whim
And when he could at least be kind

But she stops short of shedding blood
And he is thus allowed to live
He's human but still quite a stud
And he has so much left to give.