My Overrated Organ

I was told very early on
that mine was different -
not necessarily bigger -
but that it could do
special tricks,
it was a gift.

Most days
from the moment I wake,
it is ceaseless,
searching and seeking
for solutions that never satisfy,
never quench.

Nudging, prodding me
into new fire pits,
never knowing peace
or succor.

They never
just come in and sit
each represents a challenge
and is thrown upon the heap
of things to be conquered

or discarded as inconsequential
rubbish.

My overrated organ says
it’s never enough.

There’s so much
simple daisy beauty
in this world
I miss while tending
my overrated organ.

If it appears
narcissistic,
I understand.

You just don’t see
and the insecure hand
and the whip held therein
rarely resting to
let the slightest comfort
slip by

in those rare moments
when the beatings stop.