Frustration is a soft scratching inside,
A division, a growing pressure,
Either among yourself or between yourself and others.
Right now I’m thinking,
If I wanted to: I could run,
Have a world of fun,
In a place that’s not here.
Away from the people who piss me off.
And then with a metaphorical cough,
The soft scratching subsides,
And the balance slides back into place,
As calmness washes over in tides.