It Happens...

Came home
To find
A muscle-bound hulk
Bending my settee
Twenty stone of testosterone
My girlfriend calls
From kitchen near
Dreaded words I can’t quite hear
Of how it’s done, it’s dusted, it’s us
We’re through…
He’s the new guy, a boxer no less,
My twisted mind thinks it’d be cool
To rant and shout, for surely
It’d be his bad if violence ensued,
Bad publicity at best
Maybe his job lost…
"He’s retired," she says, before I spout…
"Enjoyed it too much, needs to calm down."

So I pack up a bag
Head out the door
Only to see
A big brand new car
I’ll have my revenge!
Down both sides with my now useless key
Doors kicked, dented and warped,
And after several goes window-screen breaks
Sweating but joyous I’m now aware
Of my neighbour
Looking angry, mobile in hand

“What?”

“That’s my new car…”