Mean girls are everywhere
Cleverly hid behind wit reeking of sarcasim,
Waiting to pounce on the unwitting,
Who, only by chance, have entered their arena
They hurt, they intimidate,
They anger the well intended.
Those simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
They thrive on the hurt
Grow stronger on the knowledge
Creating pain as if it were their stepping stone to adulthood
They are disguised with handbags,
And facepaint, often calling themselves creative artisans,
While they further refine their skills,
Perhaps more subtle; perhaps not.
Mean girls grow become mean women
Who, by example, spawn the next generation