I come home in the evening, after working hard all day,
I open up the mailbox, just to see what I must pay.
A cup of coffee, a cigarette is light,
There’s a moment’s pleasure, before there comes a fight.
The kids are in a frenzy, I can’t bear it anymore,
“Your supper’s in the oven,” as I am walking out the door.
“No need to worry,” said I, “no need to pout,
I didn’t want to hear it, just put my dinner out.”
Suddenly, her voice got very quiet,
Then she just got sore,
The oven door sprung open; my food fell to the floor.
The dishes weren’t broken, flying across the room,
The dog ran to the basement, sensing impending doom.
Shortly after nine, my clothes tumbled down the staircase,
She was cleaning out the bedroom, removing every trace.
The kids glued to the TV, volume turned up high,
Unwilling to overhear, in case I had to die.
A chair crashed through the window, causing neighbors to step inside,
Some retreated to pray for me, while others chose to hide.
The cops rounded the corner, knowing where to go,
They arrived in the driveway, approaching her very slow.
She stood there in the doorway, asking why they had been late,
I prayed from the closet, “Take her, it’s not too late.”
