Love Song

Inside all of us we take the time to inhale and impale;
Nail our frail, calloused hearts carefully to the 
Doornail. In detail, we downscale our
Emotions, all of them fragile. Nevertheless, we
Prevail; our faces perfectly pale--topped with a high ponytail,
Enduring the stale catcalls and telltale gestures,
Not giving into the blackmail; that retail fairytale that would
Derail the female.
Exhale.
Nothing will resale that folktale more than
The full-scale strength of a woman after a dumbass male.