Wifey

Wifey reads the Word
and her wet eyes bleed,
Bitterness with blue reasons
trapped in corked emotives,
Bottled in pressures building through
events and incidents,
Towering her rage
beyond the bars of an azure cage,
A young one older than her age,
strapped to his crap
like de good book say,
with fate ringing off the hook and
words that slap like leather straps,
Buzzards circle her for scraps,
sucking marrow from her bones
breaking anvils on her back,
She wants and works for all the best
but he'd be fine
in a gunny sack
cuz bump that,
he ain't trying to work too hard
paying wasted rent,
His cool lifestyle
is at wifey's expense,
She dreams to leave
but she is afraid,
emotional beat down,
father-less maid
Tears ask just how long she'll stay,
plowing back forties,
feeding little ones,
and getting turned out as
a sexless slave
who just goes along to give him his way,
It's more than just a shame,
but I guess one doesn't always
get what they give these days,
or is that too,
what de good book say?