It was a harsh rub,

A brush on the wrong side,

A bruise to the heart,

A hurt to the ego,

Killing to the core quoth she.

 

It was a rough trial,

An attempt to deface,

A conspiracy to efface,

A bash on the face,

Humiliating to the essence quoth she.

 

Well,it is their nature,

Made of such stuff abrasive,

Ever ready to be incisive,

Always intending to be reprehensive,

Assaulting  to the depth,said I

 

It is  an affectation very likely,

Presenting a broad smile outward,

It is fever and fret inward,

Casting a distraught onward,

Directing an onslaught  absolute,said I.

 

Well it is their way of doing,

Beat them with a wordy sway,

Slash them back as you may,

Retort and rebuff at a bay,

Shrug them off with repulsive strain,said I

 

Born out of a wedlock prime,

The mother stern and sincere,

The father wise and revered,

You a child of meritorious steer,

March ahead ignoring their  lowly deride,said I