Anger a Crime 1

Among all crimes you adore Anger is of the first cocksure! It is so vice that it does shower On the weaker whom they abhor. When one encompasses, one bore A deep profound peril in his adore. I do, but hate me why not I deplore Anger – my timidity – shown ashore. The best place for it be boudoir Where no one feels no gore. Anger, for me, just like a claymore Which hurts none but us before We realize or understand or lore.