The Shrew

She would cry when not needed

And sleep when desired

She was beyond indeed

Of any deed aspired


And with a promise for the yelling

And in place acting for roses

She would complain telling

The story of her only bruises


She would fain in attempt to rule

The class of beauties

Who anyhow were as mule

for the bevy of deities


She was again a chance to know

What God would undo

On a summer binge in faraway low

Unearth land that is hidden to redo


Nothing but the pestilence

And many weeks followed

Till she came out with license

To trick men who swallowed


Pride to say nonetheless

That She combats violence

In the face of priceless

Ego that in crib lay resilience


To say nothing but everything when asked about nonviolence





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