You don't know me,

so don't go around acting like you do.

The snake doesn't bite until provoked,

The bear doesn't get it's claws out unless poked,

The scorpion doesn't sting if left alone,

Same goes with a nice teenage girl.

You don't know me,

if you did,

you'd have kept your mouth shut,

but be it like that...

My words are sweet like honey,

until I sharpen the quill,

and careful!

It stings.

To find yourself at the end of my blade,

you'll find your name

written in such a way

you won't wish to show your face.

I am nice, I am kind, I am ever so shy!

Until you make my name, oh, so dirty,

Well, I am sorry!

I will not stand for it,

for trust me, I do speak,

and if there is one thing I'm good at,

is making words unfold on the table,

crafting a fable. 

And the nice girl is nice til you push her

to the edge of the cliff and, 

oh! She's lost her humour.

She shot her words like arrows,

stroke to kill, and you don't know her,

for if you did, you would have known

she wouldn't

stand for your nonsense,

watch as you dragged her to the mud,

let you have her feel disconcerted.

No, if the snake is provoked,

it will bite.

If it is poked,

the bear will attack.

If bothered,

the scorpion will sting.

If irked,

the nice girl will show you what's like to be mean.

You don't know me.

Don't act like you do.

I was nice, I was formal,

but if you won't apprehend,

maybe you will when the words taste like poison.