“Anger”

I wake every morn

A smile hardly displays

Feeling always torn

Pushing through the days

I try to rise with joy and cheer

Heading unto to the shower

Try to collect all my fear

I feel I have no power

Jeebies try to pull me back

Whimpering, I fight

But energy, I completely lack

Burnout, seemingly polite

Heinous heathens from my past

Still choose to take their hold

Sucking me back down at last

New pathways they unfold

Bubbling up, from within

A rage so searing deep

I know that it’s a mortal sin

Non compos-mentis sleep

My furies are not bent at you

For you’re just another victim

But scrutinize, under review

“She’s ours!” Declares their dictum!

The inner-child cries out in silence,

Despondent sobs subside

I can either embrace the violence

Or throw all pain aside!

Purging from the tars of hell

A raging furnace emerges

Where only stink and nightmares dwell

And forward, the demon surges

But I try, to thrust back down

The wrath that splurges through

Treacherous voices I will drown

In my morning java brew

Upon first sip, closing my eyes

The memories subside

The morning sun, delaying cries

Another day they’ll hide

But once again the sun must set

Another dawn arise

Into the night, another sweat

Next morn a new disguise

Tucking down the rising rage

That sneakily seeps through

Offering all my ink to Brage

For light of different view

Charli Richey

March, 2021