FRUSTRATION
by 
Gwen Austin
Copyright 2000

Frustration wears a limp sweater
whose gray wool
has hosted millions of moths.

Frustration snacks on peanut buttered dill pickles
making a Maalox moment-or several.

It broods under a toxic toadstool
when it could be out
gamboling with spring lambs.

Frustration speaks  NO, CAN'T, WON'T
and selectively hears the same.

A grimace defaces frustration's face
even though relief is but a smile away.

Frustration slaves at puzzling in a maze,
hitting one dead end after another,
blundering on, remaking each mistake.

Frustration doesn't know how to declare
ENOUGH ALREADY,
then boggle off to bed.


		  

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