THINGS ARE NOT ALWAYS AS THEY SEEM.

Domestic Scene 

by Robert William Service

The meal was o'er, the lamp was lit,

The family sat in its glow;

The Mother never ceased to knit,

The Daughter never slacked to sew;

The Father read his evening news,

The Son was playing solitaire:

If peace a happy home could choose

I'm sure you'd swear that it was there.

BUT

The Mother:

"Ah me! this hard lump in my breast . . .

Old Doctor Brown I went to see;

Because it don't give me no rest,

He fears it may malignant be.

To operate it might be well,

And keep the evil of awhile;

But oh the folks I dare not tell,

And so I sit and knit and smile."

The Father:

"The mortgage on the house is due,

My bank account is overdrawn;

I'm at my wits end what to do -

I've plunged, but now my hope is gone.

For coverage my brokers call,

But I'm so deeply in the red . . .

If ever I should lose my all,

I'll put a bullet in my head."

The Daughter:

"To smile I do the best I can,

But it's so hard to act up gay.

My lover is a married man,

And now his child is on the way.

My plight I cannot long conceal,

And though I bear their bitter blame,

Unto my dears I must reveal

My sin, my sorrow and my shame."

The Son:

"Being a teller in a Bank

I'd no right in a blackjack game.

But for my ruin I must thank

My folly for a floozie dame.

To face the Manager I quail;

If he should check my cash I'm sunk . . .

Before they throw me into gaol

I guess I'd better do a bunk."

So sat they in the Winter eve

In sweet serenity becalmed,

So peaceful you could scarce believe

They shared the torments of the damned . . .

Yet there the Mother smiles and knits;

The Daughter sews white underwear;

The Father reads and smokes and spits,

While Sonny Boy plays solitaire.

beautiful painting by: OLAF ERLA graphic design and digital art
(click to enlarge and please visit his site for more)