Paper Tigers

Tiger, tiger, burning bright;
Made of paper, serves you right.
Tongue of steel but fluffy butt;
All you can give is a paper cut.
Proud of rank but courage scant;
Your middle name is psycho-phant.
Questions aplenty, answers none;
If we question, we are done.
Silent footsteps and hidden claws;
Playing us around with wicked laws.
When its good, you scowl and hover;
Trouble brews and you run for cover.
Tiger, tiger, burning bright;
Made of paper, serves you right.