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.
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