Just getting it off my chest.

“You bitch!” He said to one so sweet.
Her face, a picture of defeat.
“You must see that I’m one who tries;
I really do!” begged tear-filled eyes.
To him the joke was with his mates
The sort I find my whole self hates.
“She’s just a bitch” he crowed out loud
To his little Boys Club crowd.
In front of all; in his loud voice call
He announced it to her peer filled hall.
Her eyes downcast, young heart now torn
“Bitch”; that label must be borne.
In front of all; both peer and friend,
A label that could know no end.
Her father had announced it there;
“she’s just a bitch” he didn’t care
that deep inside her something died,
while tearless now his daughter cried.

Sometimes you just need to write to get something off your chest.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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