I’ve better things to do than sit and cry
I don’t have the time for self-indulgence
If I keep busy here, time will have to fly
and if I fill my day up with employments –
the email that I have to send today,
the meal that must be cooked, the lunches packed,
the dishes washed and dried, and put away,
the TV programme meant to counteract
the fear and pain and anger that I hold,
the dark tide lapping at my easy chair,
the clouds that gather, the advancing cold,
the sharp-clawed crab that clacks and scrabbles there –
I cram my days with work and love and light,
but cannot build a wall to keep out night.
Frank is running things at dVerse, and asks us to write about heartbreak or frustration. I find few things more frustrating than a sonnet, so this is frustration in action!