The stench of perverse men

And what joy is it in those little girls,

that you lower your stick down them,

and later go to bed with a good dream?

And what joy is it in worried women,

that you seize being a man when denied,

and eventually push your way into them?

So what is the matter with you,

that you’ve become an alligator,

and that you eat anything in skirt?

But what is the matter with us,

that we’re empowering the rapists, 

and love seeing victims cry bloodily?

Why inherit women against their will,

and while they cry, men rather get horny?

And that opinion leaders make more money?

They’re groveling in such a sweet stench

Because at the end they will be covered

Are men really the caretakers of women?