Wronged

Come hither eyes despise

And gloat at easy pickings, prey.

Flaunting promise, egotist

Cannot delay the day

He owns her body and her mind

Travels every quarter,

Possesses all to see and touch,                                                          

After all, he bought her

With wine and dine and flattery

And glinting, glazing gaze,

Some heat, a feat of promises.

Merely love for days.

But eyes know true all she can do,

Patience is her game,

Retribution knows its route.

A poisoned purpose, aim.

A sting or two, unwelcome wound,

Some malice and a cheer

Vengeance potion swiftly served

In glass of frothy beer.

Behind the bar, she tends to fate,

Conquests there abound,

Not all that catch her eye must fear

The potent ordered round.

Just one or two, well maybe few,

Whose undeserving hearts

Relinquished mercy from her hands

Each time their love departs.

She smiles and flirts and shows some favour

To their willing form.

Claiming wives don’t understand

And they are left lovelorn.

Lies, damned lies, she’s found to cost,

Each trivial betrayal,

Is met with lust then vengeance

In glass upon the table.

Drink up, boys, there’s plenty more,

I’m willing and I’m free

For titillation, dining out and

Partying, for fee.

But morning’s dawn will sing new song,

And each new night will bring

Another manly whore around

To laugh and drink and sing;

Flexing muscles, flashing grins,

Strutting their fine glutes

And using lies and lucre

For all their cheap pursuits.

Now faithful wives have staunch ally

And help along the way,

A phone call and a photograph

Help to make their day.

Some castor oil and laxative

Well mixed in each new batch.

Beware, bad boys, the barmaid’s there

And, with aid, she’ll make her catch.

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