Dissatisfaction Poem by W. Rod MacMasterson

Frustration, I am a prisoner
Consumption they are prisoners
I am a prisoner of frustration I
know not yet a purpose
They are prisoners of consumption
running around in the same free market circus
Why do they consume, will a new car allow
their self-esteem to bloom?
Why do I consume
for new knowledge, consciousness or
perhaps a new tune

The name of this passage is dissatisfaction,
discontent, my mind is bent
Disgruntlement is my concierge, as in my
frustration I know not despair
because I shall be spared the life of…
consumption