Lousy Poet

I’m a lousy poet.
I don’t leak emotion.
I don’t fall into easy fits of anything.
Sometimes I sneer at those who do.
It’s mostly because I’m jealous.
Jealousy is my tiger pit.
There are spikes in it.
I wiggle them loose.
Maybe I can build a ladder.
Maybe I can dig a ramp and walk out.
I think up a lot of strategies for escape.
I think all the time.
All I do with all this spare time is think.
Nothing I’ve done so far has worked.
I am a bad engineer.
It is alleged that being trapped is frustrating.
I do not know if that is what I’m feeling.
I do know that there are times I want to cry.
I want to cry because I’m trapped.
It is forbidden to cry over being trapped.
I don’t know who forbade that.
I know I can hear his voice down here.
I try to get that down in words now and then.
Sometimes it is useful.
Then I recall that I am in a tiger pit.
I recall that my words are unheard.
I go back to thinking:
Bad engineer!
Lousy poet!