Oh, all the good ones try,
To catch you in their hands,
Yet when they do, they fail
And I concur for I have tried;
For days, for months, for years.
To catch you; to stop you,
To unscrew your back,
And unwind your handles.
Yet my mere attempts are like blatant cries for help,
For you see what I'm doing,
And yet you never succumb.
So, what to do?
You frustrate me; you antagonize me.
You tantalize me and you exhaust me.
Yet, sometimes you're the one I'm thankful for,