I've grown weary of being shouted at,

this shed is mine, I know my rights,

I should be free to enter

without sitting tenant fights

discussions or discordant voices.

And yet it's I who apologizes

as I subserviently creep away,

backing out of the door

as though afraid of an affray.

I give in - give up and acquiesce

to this  outraged bully who controls

that which I own, and which,

under duress, has been permitted

to make this place his home.

Now I enter at my peril,

this tiny wren, when angered,

is like the offspring of the devil.