He is a good man they said

Yet every night he painted my body black and blue.

He is a provider they said

Yet every night he chained me down just for crumbs.

He is a protector they said

Yet every night my screams and pleas bounced off the walls.

He is a lover they said

Yet every night our bed sheets were painted red.

He is a good man they said

Yet that night my silent corpse was left on the side of the streets

Just so everyone could say:

He is a good man.