My Fit of Rage June 14 2011
The voices replay in my head over and over again,
they are beginning to sound like a broken record.
I'm screaming inside to make them stop,
it seems as though my voice is the only voice not heard.
Tons of hostility I have stored bottled up inside,
I'm like a ticking time bomb ready to explode.
In a instant, I can fly into a full blown rage,
to carry such a heavy load.
The shaking begins, now the rage is taking control
and the only thing I see is red.
Like a tornado ripping through all in it's path,
the thunder is pounding inside my head.
Weighed down by all this anger inside,
I am locked within my own rage.
I can't turn it off or make it go away,
I'm stuck within the parameters of my cage.
I would give anything to be considered normal, tell me,
"How do I make it all go away?
What will it take?
What's the price I would have to pay?"
A stamp in my file that I'm stuck with for life,
labeled now and that will never change.
A danger to myself and everyone I'm around,
I'm clinically crazy, totally insane and indefinitely strange.
A remake of Fits of Rage
Copyright © Priscilla Larson | Year Posted 2011
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