The Beast
Anger is an alarm to the inner beast,
With clenched fists and teeth,
Slowly drawing hefty breaths,
Biting into words and stamping the floor beneath
He’s deformed and blind, thoughtless and irrational,
How do you tame him? Food, shower or electric shock?
How do you stop him from breaking knuckles and clocks ? Lock
Him in isolation, hug and whisper few kind words or joke
About how he is green and ugly and rabid like a Biting dog,
He struggles to drive off the buzz in his ears and
shake away the bugs throbbing his temporal veins,
Agonized , he looks for anything sharp and painful,
All he finds is a pencil with a broken lead.
He scribbles a note in disgust, spilling a few tears and bleeds
His heart out on paper .
Then he succumbs to the only drug that can cure,
No more beastly silhouettes can be seen,
Neither the satanic screams nor the blood shot eyes,
As harmless as can be written,
When he sleeps, he’s soft as a kitten.
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