To a Southern Beau

I am a woman of the South.
I have seen times of drought,
When the earth splits for want of water
And the fortunes shrivel away like the crops.
I have been to the shack during slaughter-time,
Heard the lamb's final, bleated cry,
And seen its pure fleece crimsoned by blood.
I have seen the damage done
By foam-jawed creatures of the wild,
Endured everything from sickness
To rude men and whalebone corsets,
So losing you wasn't really that bad...
You obviously wanted her more than me,
And I pity your blind stupidity, your fool's heart.
No matter how much I loved you,
You're just like everything else-
I curse you for an instant, and then
I'm over it.