The stress builds up inside him,

Like a cup that’s getting full.

It overflows, past the brim,

Down — I watch him spiral.

He takes a big deep breath,

And starts to draft reply.

His keystrokes like a treble clef,

Hits send and then a sigh.

He drives home to his kids and wife,

His passenger: his thoughts.

Daily tantrums are his life,

She wanted pants not shorts.

When he gets the girls to sleep,

He lies there on the sofa.

In his rut, he is too deep,

He just lies there like a loafer.

He wakes up to cries of “Mama”,

And “daddy go away”,

The usual daily drama,

Just part of everyday.

He goes to work - the usual route,

And opens his email.

Another fire to put out.

A prisoner in his jail.

The stress builds up inside him,

The loop begins again.

He takes a big deep breath in,

When will it ever end?