Blind Rage
Into blind rage he flew again
His neck veins bulged, his fists he closed
His wife could not remember when
She'd seen her man calm or composed
This time she screamed; she'd yelled out Stop!
Surprised and stunned, he lost his voice
Tempting fate, she'd ruled out cops
She prayed she'd made the wisest choice
His veins relaxed, his fists now hands
His voice returned, he told her thanks
She would not have to make demands
Resort to feline's cunning pranks
He managed to suppress his rage
Thanks to his wife, he turned the page
~ Iambic Tetrameter ~
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2022
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