Blasting away heavy metal music ,
The angry lyrics and angst screams .

I picture myself ,
Punching the car’s windshield .

Watching the barrier crack ,
From the impact of my fist ;
Like a cement sidewalk giving way
To the wild desperation of dandelions .

I want to see my anger ;
As poetry of a flower ,
Etched in glass .

I want the delusion of falling apart ;
That is like a dying swan ,
A swirl of yellow leaves in the fall .

Yet it would be more accurate to admit ;
Anger is a stone ,
Thrown through antique church glass windows.

The anger is a drunkard ,
Singing lewd songs at a funeral .
An addict ,
Putting a knife through your liver ,
Before grabbing ten bucks for a fix .

The anger is bold ,
Destructive and frightening ,
Not at all beautiful .

Visions of entrails ,
blood splatter patterns .
The anger , I ,
Am beginning to scare myself .


2 responses to “Anger

  1. Just want to say your article is as surprising. The clearness for your post is just nice and i can suppose you’re a professional on this subject. Fine along with your permission let me to grab your feed to stay updated with forthcoming post. Thank you one million and please keep up the gratifying work.

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