Futility

The angry wind searches the darkened land,

The darkened land scowls at the restless sea,

The restless sea hisses frustration on the shore,

The shore shrugs its sandy shoulders, and carries on as before.

We humans seek ever changing stimulation,

We humans are frustrated without novelty,

We humans are never content to let things be,

We humans are prime examples of futility.

Only humans think time drags so slow,

Only humans regret growing old,

Only humans inflict boredom temper on all,

Only humans think God should come when they call.

We laugh and we cry

We live and we die.

We care and we believe

We sin and we grieve.

I strive to make you happy,

I fail and you call me tacky.

I feel so low and sad

I suffer when I make you mad.

My life you hold in your emotion,

My pain grows in commotion.

My guts twist when you rant and rave

My mind spins shut in dark cave.

Black is the colour of my day.

Black is the mood no sun's ray

Black is the verbal bile

Black is the devil's smile.

Futility is all we share

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The clock on the mantle shows the time of day,

but not time lost

not time misspent

not time wasted

not time regretted

not time of pain

not time of love

not time of hate

not time of being hated

not time of hurt pride

not time of failed love

So the clock is futility; mechanized

what good is the clock?

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The bottle stands half full

the glass is full to brim

The pain does not die with the gin

nor sorrow dull with each pull

I make mistakes but never with intent,

I am cursed and blamed, hated in a moment

now drowning in self-torment

all happiness and pleasure is rent.

My soul – if such exists, is in hell

blamed for errors many have made

may be in time this will fade.

yet to me loves death knell

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How futile efforts to please,

a thousand acts dismissed by one that's wrong.

How fragile is a love so strongly claimed

when one act from a thousand, causes anger and pain.

How futile is effort to please?

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The twilight of despair

the gap between life and death

the space between hope and suicide

We who live in this gap

know more of life than most

more than those so self-assured they never doubt.

Doubt --- that which is the only way to certainty