Pattern Failure

The diamonds are blue and they’re printed in rows,

A five-dollar bargain that everyone knows.

But look at the middle, the seam where they meet,

The lines are all jagged and never quite neat.

One half is too high and the other too low,

A geometric mess with nowhere to go.

I stare at the plastic, the hack-job, the cheap

Mistake in the pattern that won't let me sleep.