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Angry, Angrier, Angriest
What do you do with anger in your heart?
Such anger that it tears you all apart,
This anger aimed at any, everyone
impairs my focus, blinds me like the sun.
I can not write or think about its source
Because it morphs from anger to remorse;
This anger is so powerful and rare,
It serves no other purpose but to scare.
How do I rid myself of all this hate
Without feeling justified, irate?
I can not cry, I can not scream for fear
that gossips, judges in earshot will hear.
I have nothing to say, so I will growl;
Passers by are treated to my scowl,
and God forbid they greet me with "Good day,"
my lashing tongue will send them on their way.
Angry, angrier, and angriest,
Anger is a rage that can't be missed;
It can not be denied or misconstrued:
A raging bull usurps your attitude.
This anger does no good, instead impairs,
and can not be disguised in other cares;
It sticks out like the sorest of all thumbs,
And though it's hot, it does not burn, it numbs.
© 2014 Nicholas Emeigh
Read by the Author
Part of the group "Record-A-Poem," and part of the Playlist "The Poetry of Nicholas Emeigh" which includes 40+ other poems.
Notes: This poem was written on Sunday, March 23, 2014. It's obviously about anger, being angry, and how it completely takes you over. There is no alternative to being angry when you're angry; you can't get out of it, you just have to get through it. It's so powerful it's blinding. It's hard to write when you're angry, and I needed to write to get some emotion out. The only thing that came to mind was anger, so I decided to write about it. My psychiatrist really fucked me over and is a total asshole. I am so angry at him, and our meetings where he would berate me and belittle me kept replaying in my head. I was in a rage, and I am unfamiliar with this kind of emotion. It doesn't happen often. It scared me. So, this poem is the result of all that.
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