Honey.

I know he fed you honey,

And acted proud to be with you,

But sometimes that’s an act,

Of something cowards do,

Because I know he called your pretty,

And so talented and smart,

But now he’s got you hating yourself,

Right down to an art,

For in public you were perfect,

And the best wife of them all,

Until the moment he came home,

And beat you down so small,

You’ve patiently waited for him to change,

To who he used to be,

But that is not the man he is,

He just had honey.