I'm A Great Poet. I

What Saves The Virtue Of Many A Woman Is That Protecting God, The Impossible.

At Thirty Years A Woman Asks Her Lover To Give Her Back The Esteem She Has Forfeited For His Sake; She Lives Only For Him, Her Thoughts Are Full Of His Future, He Must Have A Great Career, She Bids Him Make It Glorious; She Can Obey, Entreat, Command, Humble Herself, Or Rise In Pride; Times Without Number She Brings Comfort When A Young Girl Can Only Make Moan.

Coffee Falls Into The Stomach... Ideas Begin To Move, Things Remembered Arrive At Full Gallop... The Shafts Of Wit Start Up Like Sharp-shooters, Similes Arise, The Paper Is Covered With Ink...

In A Husband, There Is Only A Man; In A Married Woman, There Is A Man, A Father, A Mother And A Woman.

A Wife Is Property That One Acquires By Contract, She Is Transferable, Because Possession Of Her Requires Title; In Fact, Woman Is, So To Speak, Only Man's Appendage; Consequently, Slice, Cut, Clip Her, You Have All Rights To Her.