The Perfect Wife

Tossing and turning sides in her bed she tries so hard to catch some sleep

Her mind, heart and soul refuse to ignore those emotions which run so deep

Lying next to her on the bed is a man whom she still doesn’t know

And she thought with passage of time her feelings and love both shall grow

His touch, his hugs and kisses never gave goose bumps on her soft skin

The void inside her soul was killing her deep inside and making her pale and thin

Every morning and every night she went by the motions of her life

She did everything she could to be called what they say is a perfect wife

And every unshed tear from her eyes would remind her of her love and dreams

She really wished that melancholy on her face could be covered by her powder and creams

And when she faces the outside world she manages to put on a tired fake smile

A battered and beaten heart and soul with each passing day becomes more sterile

And then one night she loses her battle to the slanderous edge of a suicidal knife

The tabloids next day carry reports about the death of the “Perfect Wife”