"hello? hello?" the butcherman's wife said,

she listened closely, the line was dead.

She sighed and continued her raging war,

with cloth, and needles, and stitches darn.


she looked back at her long-gone days before,

long before tired days with muscles sore.

How she longed to take a hot bubble bath,

but she knew it impossible in her chosen path.


A noise sounded, she looked up from her toil,

the butcherman's returned, carrying some foil,

he smiled as she stood up and approached,

and hugged her tight through his sodden clothes.


tears fell onto his shirt, as she happily cried,

of the treaure she had of never lied.

so much she could've been, so much she would have had,

so many things in the world, ain't it so sad?


he chuckled and asked her how her day had been,

she said a lot of things, she had collected some tin,

"It'll cost a lot of money, but you're the treasure for me,

Oh, my dear butcherman, being here's all you have to be."