He was a hard man
It wasn't hard to see
Even as a young man
He'd had violent tendencies

He was a poor boy
But that was no excuse
He was no good boy
The curse of his misuse

He was a stranger
To his family
He was a strange man
Had no intimacy

She was his wife
She was plain to see
Afraid of the knife
Quite shy as could be

She frequented black eyes
Upon her face
She bore McDonald's thighs
Was her mother's disgrace

In the name of love
She beckoned mercy
Towering from above
His rage she could see

With the knife in hand
She played her cards
She killed a hard man
In their yard

She sits in prison
Behind iron bars
Unlike a prism
It wasn't hard

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Comments (2)

Posted by Dirkin 2008-02-05 01:29:52 .... I have never dealt personally with domestic violence, but I can imagine it would be a lot like what you have written. + Report this comment
Posted by Captain Morgen 2008-02-05 17:52:49 .... McDonald's thighs...havn't heard that one. Good comparison. + Report this comment

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