Does He That Finds A Wife Finds A Good Thing? Poem by John Chizoba Vincent

She was to me; a punching bag,
I was to her a dirty underwears.
We fought everyday and night,
Nothing I do pleased her and hers please me not.
I regreted meeting her and she cursed the day
She met me at the guest house where I wooed her.
We tried managing our marriage like an ailment,
She never cover my flaws, I expose her anus publicly.
But the camel back got more broken the more we tried.
I gave up and she gave up too without seeking for solution.
The bell rang simultanously for us but alas we were deaf hear!
It was a mistake to marry her, oh! It was a crime!
I lost my happiness to her and she lost her trust to me,
Oh! The rain caused mine and she said the sun caused her.
Children never come, money ran away from our home; peace; a tale of a forbidden kingdom.
I never see good things since she came in and, she never smile to me since I married her.
I caused it, she caused, we caused; they caused it.
We never get along and the best solution is separation but, let me ask you this before I file the papers;
Does he that finds a wife finds good a thing?