Some people scream until their lungs give out
At the moment of pure frustration.
Others hit at walls or drink till stupid
And more curse as if a holy invocation.
Yet I have come to see in myself,
And no matter how hard I try,
The moment I am angry,
I only seem to cry.
What grand betrayal is this?
My own body does me wrong.
I'd like to be poised and stoic,
Instead I'm a child who isn't strong
I lose focus of why I'm upset,
With these things inside my eye,
Oh, how I really do detest
That if I'm angry all I can do is cry.
YOU ARE READING
A Dash of Madness
PoetryThe mind is a horrible thing to waste. Now when you have a mind like mine, where monsters come out to play and happy things come in bursts, it helps to write things down. From bad days to good days and everything in between I try to make sense of...
