In shadows cast by bitter tongue, A dance of words, unkindly sung. She sits upon a throne of scorn, Where kindness dwells, she's rarely worn. Her voice, a storm, relentless, cold, A tale of worthlessness retold. For children, tender dreams she clips, With every barb from careless lips. She never sees the harm she's spun, Nor mends the damage done undone. Coins slip free from careless hand, While silken ties dissolve like sand. Yet love, the jewel she cast aside, In fleeting glances once did bide— A treasure rare, forever lost, The heart's true wealth, an untold cost.