Poetry

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Frustration

by Lionel E. Deimel

 

If it doesn’t work,

If I do it wrong,

If I write too little,

Or I talk too long,

If I’m not dressed right,

Or if I’m late,

Is it me,

Or is it fate?

 

If the coffee’s bitter,

If the dip’s too hot,

If dessert is tasteless,

But the water’s not,

If the party guests

Detest eggplants,

Is it me,

Or is it chance?

 

If the phone bill’s missing.

If the clicker’s gone,

Fluffy’s collar’s lost

In the neighbors’ lawn,

If the table’s piled

With old magazines,

Is it me,

Or is it genes?

 

If my calls aren’t returned,

If my hard drive squeaks,

If my toilet runs,

And my garbage reeks,

If I’m drowned in paper,

And my gas cap’s stuck,

Is it me,

Or is it luck?

 

Does it not matter

If I’m rich or smart,

If I play the game,

And I do my part?

Am I in control

Or just have choice?

Does life play fair?

Do I get a voice?

 

Dark cloud with lightning

 

At times, we all are frustrated by the tenuous connection between what we do and what life deals us. Whereas there are autobiographical elements in this poem, I have never felt quite so besieged  all at once as the text might suggest. This poem was written in March 2001. I made minor punctuation changes 10/5/2005.

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