Anger
Alas I understood
that anger isn't crimson.
Anger is dark, as dark as it can be.
Darker than sorrows, or even lust.
And it doesn't grow in your veins
or linger in your bones.
Anger is an embrace.
An embrace so welcoming,
it feels forgivable.
And yet your pardon is taken,
from those whose pain you drink.
Your reasons for the cause
is a reason for their deaths.
Yet again, it wouldn't be anger
if you don't intend to kill.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
