Stretched to the Limit

My hair is curled,
My clothes are clean,
My face is smiling,
My misery is unseen.

In reality,
I haven't showered in days,
Cuz when she asksfor something,
I'm the one who obeys.

I don't have time for me,
Whenever she's around,
She gets a headache,
From anything and any sound.

I wash babies,
And fold all the clothes,
My outward appearance shows indifference,
I'm the only one who knows.

My pain is growing,
Gnawing me from inside,
I can't take it anymore,
There's nowhere to hide.

An outburst of anger,
Of hatred...and fear,
She doesn't understand,
Or she doesn't really care.

I hush children,
And occupy their minds,
When they can't sleep,
I sing lullabies.

She lays in her bed,
Sick with a tummy ache,
While I bustle around,
Looking for a dinner to make.

My head is bursting,
My hair went flat,
I threw up twice,
But she'll never know that.

No sympathy would come,
Just accusations and reprimands,
I must bow down to the Queen,
And do as she cammands.

I scrub toilets and change diapers,
I make beds and skip showers,
I rub her feet instead of doing school,
I even tried giving her some flowers.

I yell at children,
To stop annoying her,
That don't understand,
There's no use toying with her.

-Bri