God Must Be a Man

A woman's body conspires against her,

Nature's own fowl tormentor.

'Tis unfair that the fairer sex had to have their suffering begin,

As a consequence of Eve's one blundering sin.

A child's body is launched into womanhood

With stains of blood upon her young thighs.

Monthly, she bleeds her tender life away.

She is Woman! She bleeds, but with pride.

A woman's virginity is given in pain, whilst the man takes his pleasure.

The blood of her broken maidenhead, like an announcement, lies on the sheets.

The man's body contains no barrier that forthwith, will define him as used goods.

A woman's innocence is lost in blood and the man simply finds release.

The bleeding stops. She's with child. What a joy!

Monthly bleeding is replaced by daily retching.

Her frame swells to enormous proportions. She can't walk.

She waddles. Oh my! Isn't she fetching?

She is now in labor and spasms of pain pull at her insides.

A small wailing person is pulled out of her covered in blood and slime.

She is being sown back together. She was slightly ripped,

Because a being the size of a watermelon was pulled out of an opening the size of a lime.

Her breasts become huge, inflated globes

That have expanded with milk and painfully threaten to explode.

Her once graceful figure is now an obese mass

That sardonically ponders the blessings of being lass.

When the bleeding has made it's final appearance,

In comes a hormonal imbalance that drives the woman quite crazy.

That once normal child's life is plagued with so much distress,

Only to turn her into a demented, old lady.

The gentle sex was born and bred to suffer and endure.

From the time of birth, females are damned.

All of this has led to one conclusion.

God must be a man.