I stop at a red light, nothing new.
I look at the car behind in the rear view.
A man and a woman sit in the car, her door almost ajar.
He’s angry, he lacks sobriety.
He shouts at her for impropriety.
But dear lady, don’t worry,
No matter how much your name he smears
In my rear view, it’s closer than it appears
He’s angry, not at your purity,
But his insecurity.
© raaifshah