What’s worse than
discontent?
Change – 
uncomfortable as it is,
moves the chains; 
betrayal – 
as hurtful as it is, 
allows truth; 
death – 
as final as it is,
brings peace.
But discontent
just 
sits – 
heavy,
immovable,
and
alone – 
on a heart 
that really should be grateful – 
and points out 
all the nothingness 
of a life.
Who could be
more desperate 
than he who is 
discontent?