Abuse, as experienced by the victim.
(It helps if you can read this with a North of England accent!)

‘Twas ever thus

I’m first to rise, and stagger down
To t' kitchen in my dressing gown.
I wake the kids and make your bait,
Make sure that none of us are late,
You shout, "Don’t make a bloody fuss".
~ ‘Twas ever thus.

I wash the dishes, mop the floor,
The grinding, numbing, household chores.
Then run to school to peel the spuds
And wash the veg and make the puds.
Then stand in t' rain and wait for t' bus.
~ ‘Twas ever thus

I make your tea and keep it warm
Till you decide to stagger home.
I don’t provoke your drunken blows
But end up with a bloodied nose.
You rant and rave and shout and cuss.
~ `'Twas ever thus.

You fumble me, your mouth agape;
It isn’t love, but not quite rape.
And then you sleep, and grunt and snore
I’m violated to my core.
My tears just seem so ludicrous.
~ `'Twas ever thus.

And then I rise above our bed,
Look down at my old battered head,
My soul breaks through its prison bars
I soar up to the waiting stars.
I bathe in healing love and light,
Gain strength and courage through the night.
I know that I am glorious!
~ `'Tis ever thus.