Bob

Bob felt he knew what was honest and true;

That he’d marry and love, life would fit like a glove.

In Mary he found his sweet goddess to pray;

At her feet would he kneel, for the rest of his days.

 

He would love with such passion,

Buy her all she desires

Just to keep her in fashion.

Provide a wealth of provisions

To prevent her division

From the life he had given

And the car she has driven.

 

Bob felt he knew that his bride could be blue;

That her sadness inside, could cause her to slide.

In Mary there lingered a darkness at bay

That would surface in bursts, every other bad day.

 

He would love with such kindness

To defend against madness;

To shine light into blindness.

The children he protected,

As soon as he detected

His beau felt neglected;

But he just feels dejected.

 

Bob felt he knew, once left black and blue,

That the marks on his face could never be erased.

In Mary he trust; for the children, he must

Just keep his head down, don’t make a fuss.

 

He would love with such sorrow;

His beating heart beaten

By every tomorrow

Promising ever more violent

Scenes from his tyrant;

Demanding he’s silent –

Keep him broken, reliant.

 

Bob felt he knew, what exactly he’d do

When she pushed him too far, and he’d fill up the car;

To Mary he’d wave as he sped off the children,

Without a thought for how he’d be the villain.

 

He would no longer shrink,

At the mercy of hands;

Teeth and knives and fists that kiss

Like promises left abandoned.

Cannot stand it;

Respect, demand it!

No longer by your violence branded!

 

Bob felt he knew, with his jaw bone askew,

That no more could defend, instead had to end;

Tell Mary no more, he would leave her to rot –

Before it’s all his kids are taught.

 

Fists afire!

You filthy liar!

I’ll punch and I’ll punch

Till I hear your bones crunch;

Till you’re crying in pain,

Then I’ll hit you again.

You won’t say a word –

See how it’s all blurred –

I’m so fragile and frail,

You’re a big, violent male.

 

So she hit him and hurt him

So badly it turned him

From innocent victim

To secondary symptom.

Her blows they fly fast –

He will stand up at last;

He would rather have kissed her,

But he fought back and Mr.

 

Bob felt he knew, that he’d beaten that shrew;

That the sirens would save, keep him out of a grave.

Mary knew better, she knew all the bluffs;

At the end of the day, it was Bob left in cuffs.

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