Was One Amused?

A Marriage

Quite frankly, there were many occasions
when One was not amused.
Let's face it, I was Top Dog (Bitch, if you like)
in the organisation
and, I admit it, married to the job:
a tough bloody job with a load of stress.

But I'd get home and find the house a mess.
A newspaper on the floor. An unwashed cup in the sink.
The towels not hanging as they should.
And he'd be sitting there like a block of wood.

Where was the respect?

I'm not saying he should have bowed
(though that would have helped)
but there was no acknowledgement
of me or my position.

'Just who do you think you are?'
he said, once. 'Thatcher? The Queen?'

He saw me as a control freak.
He thought I had delusions of grandeur.

Well stuff him. Off with his head.
It was me out there, day after day,
doing my duty, earning more than a crust.

Now I've moved on. My reign
(and my marriage) is over.
The grey men in suits are running things again.

But thank God the world is just.
It's me in the mansion with the big pension.

I expect he's on the street.
Hope so.

Queen for a day?

Tramp The Dirt Down