Poem #1: ‘The Alpha Mum’s Tale’ or ‘Everybody hates an overachiever’

She woke early, and so by Ten
Had raised two children
To an Oxbridge education.

To salve boredom then
She renovated property
Until Three.

And in the hour to Four,

Mastered the idiosyncrasies of law.

And by the strike of Seven came
Her novels numbered just the same.

Quickly the hour of Eight drew nigh

So she made a feast for Nine,
And had girlfriends round to dine.

Yet, although perfectly cooked
She’d been completely fXXked.

For her cooking spree could not have been
Less fondly seen.

So, by midnight she was dead
By her own hand. The note said,

‘Is nothing I do enough?’