Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Wife of a Gambler

Life has been quite the struggle,

Giving me challenge after challenge.

From the outside it all looks great

But on the inside I’m dying a bit more each day.

I’m not the patient, happy person I once was,

But a frustrated, short tempered mom fighting a battle for two.

I live paycheck to paycheck,

Being creative just to keep milk in the fridge,

Clothes on their backs, shoes on their feet,

Diapers on his bottom and food on the table.

He’s throwing money to the wind

Like it grows on a tree in the backyard

Complaining because work is stressful

And that’s his way of coping.

If only he’d sit back and realize what’s going on

What it’s doing to me, to us

While he’s out releasing built up stress

I’m falling apart more and more.

He comes home and hands me money

Like that will solve all the problems

But the biggest problem with that is

In order to keep it I have to drink it away

That’s not solving anything beyond a couple hours

Because the next day I’m still broke.

I’ve tried telling him how I feel, how it hurts me

But he doesn’t want to hear it; he doesn’t want to admit it.

Because if he did he would know

That he’s tearing us apart.


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