Voices Of Exasperation Poem by Gerry Legister

I heard the rain pouring down for a day
trapping water in the trees and in the garden,
I wanted the sound of exasperation to go away,
it was like political voices filling a vacant ocean.

As I waited for the rain to empty the last portion,
Threads of vapour weeping fall into a timid atmosphere,
I am caught in an endless queue at the train station,
Hearing rumbling of voices on mobiles everywhere.

Voices of exasperation won’t leave you alone,
with the continuous deluge of opinions each hour,
The sharp voices that roam often follow you home,
But the flush of anguish will not last forever.

At home, on air flow, irritant calls of inconvenience
makes atmospheric words tremble with my lost breath,
they never dissolve quickly enough into the distance,
while questions raise brings on rage and wrath.

I am discontent with explicit contents, nuisance calls
that don’t make sense, are impossible to count,
corrupt policies, sporting abuse using us as shelves,
Many multiplies sharpen edges risk being caught out.