I like to complain, although it’s a strain,
On your overly optimistic ears,
Like a Tourette’s tic I find it’s cathartic,
It has kept me out of prison for years,
Don’t understand? Well my seeming command,
Of my actions is not all it appears,
Your complaining about my complaining,
Besides causing hypocritical jeers,
Takes me to the edge, and this much I pledge,
If I do crack you‘ll soon know it my dears,
When I complain it’s to keep myself sane,
To stop my system from jamming its gears,
Accept when I rant, and maybe I shan’t,
Tear a strip off of your collective rears!