A Metaphor of Guilt

You see the wealth of his
And you seize upon it.
You turn his wealth to his shame.
Then you eat. Drink. Merry
Into the meed of your woman's vulva.
You bear children, and hate him.
He drinks the wells of bitterness.
You say, "He has done ill."
Therefore, "He must suffer.
"I have done good,
"Therefore, I must eat
"Drink, and feel."
He dies in obscurity,
While you prospered his portion.
You stole from him his hammer
His sickle, his anvil, his threshing instrument.
And you took his lute, and lyre
And drum and harp.
And you took his wife,
And his children, and his field
And his silo. And his house
And his yard, and everything that was his.
You took it. And you said,
"I am not yet satisfied."