Collective Meeting

Another meeting,
another waste of time.
Never did have an appetite for this competing,
for Nazi tactics glossed-up to be
Collectivist Theory.
Never did have the stomach for their fight,
for such delight 
in deleting all opposing points of view,
decisions forced, no discussion, 
we let them dominate, intimidate,
their sick pursuit of power
always on the Agenda
in a hidden kind of way.  

Armour intact, no male army could do more -
right-on phrases, right-on poses, warded-off attack,
and it worked.  I saw women hacked and hurt
by tongues that had the edge
on all blades ever forged.
Something must have made them hate so much,
those fey women gorged on plainer minds than theirs,
for inside they were lame, their crippled wares

There was one - riddled with her past
like a beam full of woodworm,
who, despite a Social Science Degree
couldn't tell the difference between right and wrong.
She used to prey on one woman in particular -
humiliate her publicly
just like her man had done to her
in private.
A strong wall, with followers thick as bricks.

None of them could see another way,
that a rule called Democracy
should have been within our circle -
after all, were we not all equal?

Thus was suspicion bred, deliberate.
And poison leached away what sanity was left
till at the bottom of that pile of shite, of vanity,
the women we were there to help, suffered,
despite the few of us who fought
but didn't win.
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