There's sense of foreboding
as I enter the room,
her face full of anger,
a temple of doom
She asks "where have you been?"
as I walk through the door,
I give a big sigh
and answer as before;
"I've been at work,
didn't leave til Eight,
then the train got delayed,
that's why I'm late."
"Excuses, excuses,"
she says with despise
and glares at me
with challenging eyes,
she holds something aloft,
"what's this?" she begins to holler,
"Is this lipstick I see
on your shirt collar?"
My mind is a whirl
from the accusation,
should I make a run for it now
and head back to the station?
"Course not" I say
with wide innocent eyes,
"it must be blood from shaving"
I can only surmise
"I don't believe you"
she says with a glare,
"there's a message on the answerphone
from someone named Claire".
"She's just a colleague" I say,
"believe me, it's true,
there is no one else,
I love only you."
Her face starts to soften,
she's beginning to thaw,
I've managed to talk her
around once more.
"I'm sorry" she says
with a kiss and a hug,
little does she know
that she's just a mug.
Later that evening,
when she's fallen asleep,
my mobile rings
with it's silent beep.
"It's me" says Sue,
"does she suspect?"
"Nah," I say
"She knows nothing yet."
I switch off the phone
and turn around only to see
my livid wife
eyeballing me.
I try to explain
I didn't mean to deceive her,
but it's all too late
as she brings down the cleaver.
CHOP!
