Poem; The frustration of life.

Sometimes I don't want to
Get out of bed, guilty thought's
Going round my head. I know
What my mother would have said,
"Did you ever thing it was going
To be easy?" No, but I never told
Her so.
Sometimes I despair, of ever getting
Where I want to be. I ask myself "Why,"
But that's all pie in the sky.
All those words I've written over
The years, all those tears  of
Rejection, like an infection that
Burns into my brain, the pain
Of trying to move on and gain
A following.
Sometimes I hate this contraption
On four wheels, I push around,
Dragging my spirits down.Once
I ran about, weeded the garden,
Doing chores, no more. These
Legs so stiff are slow, not
Going where I want to go.
Sometimes I want to get on
An aeroplane to see you all again,
Those Great-Grandchildren I
Have never seen, only on my E Mail
Screen.
Sometimes when I see it rain,
I think again, of you and I,
Walking through life, under
The trees, wet bushes touching
Our knees, and how you held
My hand, and, as rain dripped
Down our faces, you kissed me.
Sometimes...Sometimes.

Augustine Nash.