Disappointment

My disappointment is
between me and my God
and I wouldn't have it
any other way.

The weight of it
bows my shoulders.
The carrying of it
pressures my heart
to go off at
breakneck speed.

"Hey you!"
I call to that which
created me.
"This didn't come,
with an instruction manual!"
I tell Him, throwing it down.
"Besides, I think it's broken.
It just doesn't work for me."

He didn't give it to me,
but I figure I can leave it here.
With it's freeze dried bitterness.
With it's residual gall.
At least if I give it to Him,
I'll know it won't be given to someone else
by Him.
And I won't have it burdening me
up the vertical climb
I'm about to venture off on.