The Fear of Men

I was once the fearful fret

Who learned, not courage,

But regret

And so got caught,

Tangled, in the net

Of a thing considered wise:

The living fear of men.

 

So rampant was this revere,

Of this plague,

This crippling fear,

That many encouraged it

In females of any year

Proclaiming that purity

Was the fruit of the fear of men.

 

Rules and standards ruled the hearts

Of multitudes of women

Told to “be smart”.

As though intelligence

Was the equivalent part

Of a cowardice:

The ever-present fear of men.

 

There were no stories of self-defense

There were no heros

Who spoke of consent

There was no hope

For male friends;

Women were all equally helpless

And shared a fear of men.

 

I am happy to point out

This is written

To tell about

Something quite past tense,

Something I presently live without

Because Christ never said

To live in fear of men.