The Bible paints me as a slut
A witch with liar's tongue
But I was just a luckless girl
A foolish lover, young
A haircut's not a daring deed
But somehow it's a sin
Because I took his strength from him
His weakness did him in
How am I the one to blame
And not the shallow man
Who could not live without his strength
Without his doting fans
I loved my Samson, loved him well
But I refused to be
Another voiceless lover girl
Adrift within his sea
When I left, I left him broke
For he did not break me
And I would sheer his locks from him
To make his blind eyes see
That I was no meer wilting bud
No dandelion flower
I was raised on female wrath
I lusted after power
I handed him to Philistines
And pocketed their gold
Samson's hurt still haunts my dreams
I wake up feeling cold
If I had known the weight I'd feel
At turning on his trust
I'd have made that poor man kneel
And ground his bones to dust
Maybe then I'd find some peace
In taking back my voice
Maybe then the doubt would cease
I missed some other choice
It is not fair, I tell you now
Us women have to choose
To be the one to make men bow
Or hang inside a noose
I made my choice with little guilt
The smallest brush of frown
For all the blood my Samson spilt
I deserved his crown
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Wicked Women
PoetryWicked Women is a collection of poems written from the eyes of history's most maligned and hated women. This collection explores what motivated these "evil" women to commit murders, robberies, and other infamous crimes and offers a glimpse beyond th...
