With the scum from her kettle,
A bottle of Dettol,
A powder of pills,
She plastic pot fills.

With a laugh and a lie
And a new alibi,
She rings off, back to sleep,
Wonders what she will reap.

With a grey uniform
She shrugs on the new morn,
Watches faraway news,
Tidies up the last clues.

With a grin ushered in,
Snuck away, couldn't win.
With that ring you he wed;
With syringe she her dead.