Tell me what’s it that fuels your rage,
Mister, against your missis, eh?
Why have your clouds picked her visage
To rain, blindly, slaps and punches?
Hmm! Of cigarette and liquor,
Your heavy breath steadily reeks;
Observing the eyes of your head,
No glint of courtesy appears!
Has she metamorphosed at sight
Into a cow your whips cherish?
At squabble’s call, you are summoned-
Being the bruiser she marries.
I’ll make sure you see Prison’s teeth
From its inside- locked in its mouth!
Your busted self shall rot in jail;
Your moulded fist will melt to plead-
When Justice’s wrath is set on you,
Then shall your scruples be tuned in
To deprecate the maltreating
Of our mothers, wives and daughters!
#Wrrpoetry #WomenAbuse #VerseUp