You would think I might be pleased
To see your name.
There in bold, black print on screen
But, to my shame
I feel a mundane stab of irritation
And then glee.
At last a chance for anger at someone
Not he or me.
You would think I might be pleased
To see your name.
There in bold, black print on screen
But, to my shame
I feel a mundane stab of irritation
And then glee.
At last a chance for anger at someone
Not he or me.
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