Hysteria Uncontrolled
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My gorge rises, my blood boils.
Exasperated I bite my envenomed tongue.
Incensed I spout mad words
that have no meaning
defending my attitude,
maintain my poise.
I bait, fret and nag,
like a tantalizing volcano
that has yet to decide
whether to erupt or not.
Don't answer me back,
Twill only fan the flames
of my irritable ire.
For if I erupt, then
there is no going back.
Don't goad me into a quarrel,
my lava burns.
So beware.
She leaves never to return.
Good.
After all what is she?
A lazy domestic cleaner
that performs half the work assigned
And get paid in full for it.
My wife smiles.
She’s glad the cleaner is gone for good.
She is too sexy for comfort.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2021
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