She would cry when not needed
And sleep when desired
She was beyond indeed
Of any deed aspired
And with a promise for the yelling
And in place acting for roses
She would complain telling
The story of her only bruises
She would fain in attempt to rule
The class of beauties
Who anyhow were as mule
for the bevy of deities
She was again a chance to know
What God would undo
On a summer binge in faraway low
Unearth land that is hidden to redo
Nothing but the pestilence
And many weeks followed
Till she came out with license
To trick men who swallowed
Pride to say nonetheless
That She combats violence
In the face of priceless
Ego that in crib lay resilience
To say nothing but everything when asked about nonviolence