F is for frustration
With my front right wheel
For breaking again and again.
Frustration with myself
For letting it happen
Again and again
Instead of being smart enough
To listen to the masses
Filling my ears with possible solutions.
I wait until tears threaten to spill out
And anger bubbles from within.
Frustration with this broken body
For not working the way it should
Again and again.
Frustration with this wrecked mind
For its melancholic nature
And for having more blue days
Than yellow like the sunshine
I love so much and dread
The slow disappearance of
Again and again.
Frustration at myself for
Missing the sound of your voice
And the touch of your hand
Along with the taste of your skin.
F is for frustration
Because I should be content
And I should be thankful
For this blessed life of mine
But I still cry myself to sleep
And listen to sad songs on repeat
Because I’m frustrated and sad
And afraid of change but maybe
I’m more afraid of failure.