When I was young, my Grandma Bertha took the last piece of cherry pie, split it in half, and gave a piece to my sister and a piece to me. I examined the two pieces and loudly objected. “She has a bigger piece!”
Grandma quickly took my piece, said something like “I’m sorry you don’t like yours”, and ate it herself. I got nothing…except a lesson.

When I complain, I/
don’t get what i want. Truth? I/
get nothing at all.