The Real Paradise

She slams the door as she enters,
The room is quiet, but they know,
What is coming is no surprise:
It's a bomb - waiting to blow.

The house is dead quiet,
If you cant hear the silence
Everyone sits too afraid,
To interrupt her and the absence.

This is paradise in her opinion.
She complains about random stuff,
To please her to make her happy.
No matter what it is never enough.

The room may be quiet,
But they all are in thought.
They have to wonder
Does it ever end?

No matter what it is never enough.
The stomping, the glares
Kill whatever the happiness,
Was there before the stares.

The day goes on like this,
She yells at them for watching
And for everyone to get to work,
She sits while they work watching.

As they go along, she tells them
How they do nothing right.
They continue tears in their eyes.
No matter what it is never enough.

Its paradise she says,
I do all the work while you do none
I stay home cleaning
While you have all the fun.

And, at the end of the month,
The bank account agrees
For the payments need to come out
And she has no boundaries.

Sometimes they wonder,
If it is completely their fault.
They live it every day
They know it will never halt.

They get told this is like a hotel,
Yet they dread coming back.
But, it is still their “home”
And maybe they do slack.

Then they can be normal
And talk to their friends
And pretend this never happens;
Yet, they know it never ends.

For this is paradise,
She yells and and flips out about stuff.
To please herself maybe? We don't know.
No matter what it is never enough.

It is never enough.