Here’s a safe middle-class life:
Her aspirations were good,
Her hopes clear and mundane,
Her children smart,
The home well looked after.
But something was amiss -
In all the tumult of her success,
The welter of her friends,
The slow progress to status,
There was a shadow concealing a flaw
That cracked her bliss.
It was never her fault,
Never was,
Never would be -
Someone was Always To Blame
Elsewhere.
You wouldn’t have thought it,
No, honestly,
Not to look at her,
But how can you communicate when You’re Always In The Wrong?
