Hell hath no fury,

Said the Immortal Bard,

Like a woman scorned, he

Spoke the truth, and how

Was I to know the full force of fury,

When wronged.


She begged me for names,

For dates,

For places,

For happenings, again

And again,

And again, but

The blunder was to

Not understand

A woman’s mind, the price

To pay for

The truth.


The flesh is weak,

The spirit is weaker,

I have loved, and

Lost, not knwoing

The price of truth.

Who was the fool

Who said, “the truth

Shall set you free”

I am in chains, and unable

To avoid

The fifty, the hundred, nay more,

Lashes she gives me, every

Minute, every

Hour, every

Day, wishing

For death to set me free

From the price of truth.