Anyone can tell the truth but only very few of us can make epigrams.
Job plunges into a series of demands on and accusations of God which may be and indeed are epigrams of high intelligence but are not noticeably patient.
You promised to take care of me and not to turn your back on me. How is it possible that you never wrote to me even once and you never came back to see me? Do you think that it is fun for me to spend months even years without any news without any hope!