Questions Poem by Tentative Poet

Why is this happening?
She asks the wallpaper,
A patch of sunlight
Caressing its surface.

How did we ended up like this?
Directing this at the stove,
Steam bubbling from the pot,
Noodles for the boy's lunch.

I thought it was forever, not like this!
Speaking down at the broom and
Dustpan filling with dirt,
Finishing up in the bedroom.

Why doesn't he love me anymore?
The table does not answer,
Neither do the stalks of cut flowers
Stuck into the green sponge.

We hardly ever talk,
Addressing the pile of clothes
Waiting their turns
Upon the ironing board.

It's always the kids these days,
Packing up her students' assignment,
Never me or at least us,
Almost ripping the zip of her handbag.

Sometimes I wish,
She checks herself in the mirror,
That things weren't so complicated,
Making sure she has all her notes.

Why can't we sit down,
Turning to check the traffic's clear,
And have a good heart-to-heart,
She signals the cab.

Must remember to do that,
Reaching out for her change,
Better note it in the filofax,
She steps quickly towards her office.