I fear women

A woman who says my hair's a mess, But won't give a comb, leaving it to stress. Calls my man a friend or sugar so sly, Ready to see my relationship die. At the door, waiting to take my place, I fear this woman, a hidden menace.In the shadows, a fear takes shape, A woman's whispers, a silent landscape. Quick to say my hair is a tangled mess, Yet won't extend a comb, a gesture to confess. She labels my man as a friend or sweet, A subtle game, a dance of deceit. Ready to witness my relationship fall, At the doorstep, poised to answer the call. Fear not of the comb, but the words unsaid, In the intricate dance, where trust may shred. A woman lurking in the shadows of strife, Ready to step in, take the remnants of my life. I fear women who reflect my own face, Supposed sisters, but they quick to embrace. Ready to take my man, a fear in my view, In the mirror of womanhood, betrayal anew.