Discontent

by Aimee Jaskot

Another ignorant soul
shredding the meaningful details of her life
in an endless search
for a fairy tale.
My discontent is boundless.
I always find fault
with the good I am given.
I toss idols down from their pedestals,
strip flowers of their blossom petals,
and find myself most at home
in dirty gutters
staring at the stars' innocent beauty.
Clouds pass by
and I wave my mind in frustration
at their distance.
An ideal is pretty
but comforts me not.
I want to find beauty at the heart of things.
I want to find out if this love is real.