Futility and Frustration

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Sometimes the bad guys win
And the bloody futility of it all
Casts a shadow over my mind.

Nice girls stay married to abusive bastards,
Playing the punching bag to their frustration,
Unable to see a way out through blackened eyes.

Great guys are stuck with utter bitches,
Bound like a roped and snorting bull
By their sense of duty to a painful life.

I suppose there's two sides to any tale
And relationshipsare negotiated,
Peace treaties worked out and ratified.

But it isn't much consolation...
As you wring your pillow out each morning,
Having cried yourself to sleep.

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foehn2foehn2over 16 years ago
Empathy yet lives...

A very nice empathetic poem. (Of course, I tend to think we learn empathy by having lived through things.) Good lines in here ... "unable to see ... through blackened eyes..." and "like a roped and snorting bull." The hyperbole of the last stanza gives punch to what the poet is feeling. Well done.