Stupidity

Very well, my dear, she said through coloured glass, Through teeth of blood and silver As the doorway hurtled past; I then stood on the front step, with the rain beating down, Until he bared his thuggish fangs And I drove from the town. I had done no wrong, offended none, and yet He bore a numbskull grudge In rage and beery sweat; Each escalating threat of unfinished business spoke, Of coming round and knocking Things grew way beyond a joke. My aging failing heart began to age and fail anew, The sickness quickly spread With blood work left to do; Though of innocence protested, all stupidity is deaf, Only one track on his mind: To batter me to death.