The Complaint Of The Ages Poem by Raj Dronamraju

If only there'd been more time
I could have set myself up as the welcomed intruder
Instead of the type you call the police on

If only there'd been more time
I could have fooled someone
By remaking myself into a more publicly palatable peon

Lost in the effort to bodyblock a way through the years was who I wanted to be
Who I was turned out not to be so important after all
The introduction of the mean-spirited hour only caught who I was flat footed and frozen

I long ago stopped beating myself up over opportunities stared at with a glassy eye but not in any way approached
I do now know if I want something I should ask for it

If only there'd been more time
To experiment with getting it wrong
To receive a sharp blow to the knuckles, to make the wrong answer

If only there'd been more time
For me to have the relaxed pose of the uncaring inhabitant
Living with a certainty that nothing matters

If only there'd been more time
More time for the valiant
Less time for paralysis brought about by the anger of fear, the frustration of fear, the indecision of anger

And I am angry
I am angry at the heavens, angry at myself
And angry when something is offered to me without much effort and I fail to grab it