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Why is it so frustrating to be frustrated?

Frustration,
a knot in the chest, a choke of the mind,
a silent scream in the loudest noise,
a dance with shadows, lost in the void.

It's the itch you can't scratch,
the door that won't budge,
a dream deferred, a muted grudge.

It’s a loop, a spiral, a twisted thread,
a maze with no end, a fear unsaid,
a clock that ticks, but time stands still,
a battle fought on a windmill hill.

Why is it so frustrating to be frustrated?

It's the words that won't form,
the thoughts that escape,
a melody forgotten, a distorted shape.

It's reaching out, fingers grasping air,
a voice unheard, a blank, cold stare.

It’s wanting, needing, never receiving,
a constant state of disbelieving,
a storm that brews but never breaks,
a restless sleep that never wakes.

Frustration, 
it’s the missing piece in a perfect scene,
a silent cry in a deafening scream.

Why is it so frustrating to be frustrated?

It’s the light just out of reach,
the lesson no one can teach,
a paradox of endless quest,
a heart that beats but cannot rest.

It’s the truth that slips through cracks,
the past that never quite turns back,
a game where rules are undefined,
a prison built inside the mind.

It’s seeing the path but losing the way,
a night that swallows the light of day,
a whisper lost in a crowded room,
a flower that refuses to bloom.

Frustration,
a riddle with no clear solution,
a mind caught in endless convolution.

Why is it so frustrating to be frustrated?

It’s the feeling that’s felt but never voiced,
a choice that’s made without a choice,
a mirror reflecting the unknown,
a soul forever left alone.

It’s the search for meaning in the meaningless,
a quest for peace in the ceaselessness,
a desire burning with no flame,
a silent cry with no name.

It’s knowing you’re stuck, but not knowing why,
a bird that’s grounded, yearning to fly,
a shadow dancing in the light,
a constant struggle, an endless fight.

Why is it so frustrating to be frustrated?

Because it's a cage built with invisible bars,
a night sky without the stars,
a question with no answer found,
a scream that makes no sound.

It’s the human condition in a single breath,
a dance with life, a flirt with death,
a cycle spinning out of control,
a search for what makes us whole.

Frustration,
the echo of our deepest fears,
the silent weight of unshed tears,
a story written but never read,
a restless heart, a mind unfed.
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