She says 'Honey I’m home' as she enters the room,
One life destroyed 7 lives left,
Ready to feast and fight,
She is the dictator of her fate,
She lusts for the crack of the whip,
The thrill and the thrive as she chases her victims,
The squeals and the cries as she plays with them,
The heightened experience of being alive,
She is one hot kitty-cat waiting for her prey,
She doesn’t want Batman to get in her way
She pins him to the ground and places a deadly kiss,
Upon his pouty lips under the Christmas mistletoe,
She cracks the whip once more as she scatters into the night,
Cleans her wounds and purrs softly under the moonlight
But she did not realise she left a fragment of her soul,
A piece of a kitty-cat claw which is stuck in Batman torso
Poem by Gracie Jones
