she wakes early to plot the day
makes the bed where he once laid
she works out to stay trim
curls her hair so she's proper and prim
she cleans the living room
the kitchen
the bedroom
the bath
the halls
the windows
the tables
the floor
she washes and folds the laundry
and puts away the dishes with a clatter
overwhelmed with quandary
pretending the latter doesn't matter
only focused on having dinner ready
when he steps through the door steady
and she does it all
yes she does it all
with a frown on her mouth
and a furrow on her brow
yes she's going mad as a hatter
perfect makeup
mixing batter
what's for dinner
new lingerie
makes her look thinner
she's got to please the man
she's got to lick his hand
petrified things will fall apart
if she doesn't play her part
she's losing who she is
afraid to be a Ms.
all day long
she thinks of pleasing him
humming a caged bird's song
for she does this all desperately
desperately desperately
running from the candle *****
her love just doesn't seem enough
doing all she can
to keep this man
pretending she still has an identity
and that she's not just a mechanical thing
that she's more than just
the desperate housewife.