A Thunderstorm is brewing, the likes I've never seen; It's headed in my direction, coming straight towards me. ~ It will be most deafening, how will I stand the sound; As my flimsy house of plastic cards, goes crumbling to the ground. ~ I can not stop its' furry, and it's much to late to run; So I'll face the roaring Thunder, and Clouds that block the Sun. ~ A product of my past, and the pain I've held inside; It's building up too quickly, and I've nowhere to hide. ~ So I'll wait the lightning out, prepared to face that day; When I must tell the truth, hoping I'll know what to say.
An explosive temper, her husband doesn't like for her to have an opinion. She doesn't talk to him, for this reason. She knows she must tell him how unhappy she is, she's just not ready to do that just yet. She fears him.