frustrated

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.