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The Rage

Open palms slapping the face.
A weightless body being 
dragged across the
 tile.
Pulling the scalp high and 
higher. 
A beast has been tortured for 
years.
 Rotting in his cell of
 a mind,
 his sentence has ran 
out of time. 

The rage is out, 

unleashing on a 
mother, 

as her screams echo

A still boy stands
aloof and paralyzed.
No shakes, No tears
Too young to defend
but old enough to
feel. 

The rage has blinded,
fading everything else away. 

Except my memories,
while I yawn but stay awake.

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  1. Date: 2/12/2013 8:02:00 AM

    About your poem: a very deep and disturbing image... rage is not good when held in captivity, cuz once it's out, IT'S OUT!.. Hope this is not you, and not a memory that is truly bothering you... a screaming poem in my mind... an awesome write... LINDA

    Guglietta Avatar Frank Guglietta Date: 2/12/2013 9:24:00 AM Block poet from commenting on your poetry

    I truly appreciate your positive feedback, it means alot. Just a memory, I am the boy in the poem. It's good to get things out infront of you on the page or screen
  1. Date: 2/12/2013 7:58:00 AM

    Good morning Frank, I hope you don't mind MY reading of your poems. Somehow, you poetry drew me in. I will read a few more, and explore... so far i love all i have read...xox~PD