dissatisfaction

na.

what realms

scream beyond our satisfaction?

 

what truths

do we pretend to hold?

 

what pride

is it that we say we walk with,

just outside the next store where

we sell our “souls”? 

 

what face

is that which we refuse to look

at,

when forced into the mirror

reflect? 

 

what conversation

might we have with ourselves, to

convince that we are worthy of

respect?

 

no one gets all that they want

when life so short will not reveal

that nothing offered’s good enough

if dissatisfaction is the only thing

that’s real.