Colloquial

By Rupert Brooke

It was not that you said I thought you knew,
Or that you thought I said that you, my dear,
Felt what I felt you felt. If it were clear,
Had God given soul to me, or sense to you,
Or guts, indeed, to either of the two,
Had it been worth a smile, or worth a tear,
Heart of my heart.

Sometimes the source of frustration lies less in the amount of duty than in the inadequacy of time, energy and resources to accomplish what one truly desires.

occupation slave