I’m just another broken heart
And one more sneering soul.
A woman scorned is much like hell
But luckily she’s whole.

I’m simply one more easy aim
For you to call your own.
An object I am not, my dear
Nor just another clone.

I’m just the type to make believe
And elevate your worth.
Now I see you’re nothing more
Than scum right from the earth.

I’m simply throwing you away
Before I slit your throat.
Not that I would publicise
I’m not the kind to gloat.

I’m happy that you’ve lied to me
For now I have just cause
To rip you limb from selfish limb
And relish in applause.

I’m angry that I fell for tricks
That have been used before.
But you’re just so derivative
You’re something of a chore.

[And you're everything that's wrong with the world...]

A/N: It's bastards like him that make me hate the entire male population.