Chagrin

She stands there, wild eyed,  
hair blowing in the wind,
fist raised, half crazed,  
she cries out once again.

Stomps her feet in a dance of rage, 
spittle running down her chin. 
Like a puppet on a stage, 
made by selfish men----

She screams about the woman's plight ,
against the true original sin .
Men over woman isn't right, 
not the way it should have been. 

She calls all girls to fight the fight
of might they just can't win
much to the selfish mans delight,  
much to her chagrin.....  

He stands there wild eyed,
hair blowing in the wind.
Fist raised, half crazed,
he cries out once again,

Stomps his feet in a dance of rage, 
spittle running down his chin. 
Like a puppet on a stage,
controlled by smart women.... 

He screams about the plight of man,
against the birthright stolen.  
Women were always smarter than,  
our bigger heads only swollen. 

He calls all men to fight the fight,  
of wits they 'just can't win.
Much to the clever girls delight,  
much to his chagrin..... 

We stand there wild eyed,  
hair blowing in the wind.
Fists raised, half crazed,
we cry out once again.

Stomp our feet in a dance of rage,
spittle running down our chin.
Like puppets on a stage,
out of control again .

We scream about our human plight,
against Satan and his kin,
How he separates our hearts
and the evils locked within.

We call on humankind to fight,  
a war we just can't win,
Much to the Devils dark delight ,
much to our chagrin ...  By Jove !