Annoyance

A mosquito buzzes around my head,Its thin complaint trails behind its failed bite.I swat at the sound and hit air instead,and hear it return, as if out of spite.

A hair on my back slips further away,the more I reach for that diabolic strand.It troubles me most that it will not stay,Once it is chased by a desperate hand.

The hangnail I trimmed with careful resolve…it grows longer still, or so it appears.Small troubles, I find, don’t wish to be solved.Some last for a day, some linger for years