He looks at her, and says, ‘You’re mine,
don’t stray or I will make you pay
with your life, never doubt;
I will always find out.
Give me your phone, you don’t need it.
No one wants to know you
You’re a nobody, waste of space
I don’t know what I saw in you.
You’ve gone to the dogs these days;
messy hair, unmade face, and those thighs.
No wonder I stay out late
having fun with all the guys.
Your job is to care for me
and make sure the kids are fed.
Don’t get any funny ideas
or you might just lose your head.
No photos or mementos
to remind her of the past.
They’re in the bin long ago
along with her photographs.
It’s Friday, he’ll be home late;
the pub and bookies are calling.
With no money to buy some food
She fears the kids will be hungry
It would be nice to believe
that this doesn’t happen.
Hundreds of women live this way
And they sit at home forgotten
Tuff subject this week Mary
Tuff poetry this week Mary but a subject we women can all identify with