Dream House Poem by Kewayne Wadley

I find it difficult,
Finding beams of wood with the right size nails.
The store either has what your looking for.
Or something close to it. The irony of finding
what your looking for soon as you stop searching.
The oversized boards cut down, made to fit.
The smell of saw dust incorporates a sudden urge.
The remedy of silence, being alone in thought.
I've searched only to come up empty handed.
Continuing to cut down pieces of over extended wood.
Having to stop what your doing for the constant bother of someone else.
Concrete poured to create the perfect slab only to wait a while
longer to build the perfect house. Privacy fence included.
Such a pain, carrying repeated bags of shingles up a ladder
Knowing the higher up you go the risk of falling increases.
Only to be bothered by constant nagging of your neighbor
The constant tacking of nails, only to miss and slam the hammer against your fingers.
With every call of your name.
The thought of throwing the hammer across the yard gets more enticing every day.
But as I sit back and stare at the frame of the house I know I'm close to being done.
How difficult it is to build the perfect house
when the thought of someone else always invades