Frustrations Of A Would-Be Poet

Oh, my goodness! Here I sit ---

And threaten "someday I will quit!"

Dirty dishes --- floors to clean

Messiest house I've ever seen!

I'm patient as anyone could be ---

Still it sits and waits for me.

"There's just no future!" I complain,

"After it's cleaned, it gets dirty again."

But if I sit here, day after day

Things get worse --- in every way.

The dirt piles up --- more and more

I just can't win --- that's for sure.

If I could write a poem that paid

Maybe I could hire a maid

And maybe if I wrote a book

I could even hire a cook.

But the thoughts I think, come out all wrong

And I can't even write a song.

I try and try, with all my might,

But nothing ever comes out right.

So guess I'll put my pen away

And try again some other day.

Go wash the dishes in the sink

Take out the garbage -- so it won't stink.

Mop the floors and wash the clothes

The jobs are endless --- goodness knows.

But some other day -- I'll take my pen

And try and write a poem again.

How frustrating life can be

To just sit here and dream -- like me--

That someday I'll be a star -----

When here I am --- just what I are!

Pearl E. Cain