Fay’s Story

There was once a little girl named Fay
She was gracious and kind in every way
With her flaming red hair
She attracted more than one stare
As she quick-stepped through the passage of childhood.
As she blossomed through school and beyond
Fay struggled at times with le Monde
Her sweet nature betrayed her
And fed her bounty to that charismatic stranger
Blind to the mask, she strode on.
When she awoke to the truth, Fay was thirty-one
Browbeaten, confused and a mum
Despite a decade of devaluation
She kept schtum for fear of humiliation
And crawled into a private pit of ‘make-do’.
Submission, Fay learned, did not curry favour
It just fuelled verbal aggression and sulky behaviour
In the interests of the kids, she could take it
Until the day she understood they wouldn’t make it
She knew.
So she ran, that young woman named Fay
Still gracious and kind in every way
She began her new life
With no-one calling her ‘shitty wife’
She’s dancing again, is flame-haired Fay.

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