Men are just people,
And if they weren't
Meant to cry,
They'd not have tear,
Ducts like they don't have,
Mammary glands,
Wombs and hips,
Like you,
So all that stuff,
About hell hath no fury,
Or with your looks,
You can rule the world honey,
And you're calling yourself a princess,
While asking him to be a servant,
You got it, maid,
And I know you're not all the same,
So neither are the men,
You raise your hands and,
Voices it's the same thing,
You cheat and abuse,
It's the same level of wrong,
So while broken men abound,
Slain for not being proud,
Or jealous, rich, or self-righteous,
For not flattering the illusion,
Of grandeur,
The culprits are just as much at fault,
As if they were men.