Terese With No H

I’m Terese, with no H, I’m Terese of the street,
And I like to have standards, I’m prissy and neat.
I’m busty and glamorous, businesslike too,
Oh I may not be tall but I’m bigger than you.
I’m Terese with no H, and I’m telling you this:
Something happened to Brad when that tramp stole a kiss.
Yes, I know that she’s lonely now poor Matt is dead,
But my husband has just put his wood in her shed!

I’m Terese with no H, and I’m angry and bitter,
The news of their romping is all over Twitter,
And people are pointing and staring at me,
Cos I’m having a wine and it’s just ten past three.
Well so what if I drink? Hell, I’m having one more,
And it’s clearly what Lassiters wine stash is for.
Look, I know people claimed it was all in my head.
But my husband has just put his wood in her shed!

I’m Terese with no H, and I just have to say
I expected support from our own Susan K,
But she’s laughing with Lauren and chatting with Brad,
So is it such a wonder I’m seething and mad?
And when I ask advice she just thinks I’m obsessed,
As she smiles and says ‘there, get it all off your chest.’
Has she quickly forgotten that feeling of dread
When your husband puts wood in another chick’s shed?

I’m Terese with no H, and I don’t like being scorned,
You wait Lauren Turner, don’t say you weren’t warned.
For hell hath no fury like me when enraged,
You think that you’ve won but you’ll soon be upstaged.
I’m plotting and planning behind that big tree,
You haven’t yet seen the revenge side of me.
Your garden will soon be as bare as your bed,
No Brad in your storeroom, no wood in your shed!

© Carol Ann Wood
October 2015


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