A Man of Mighty Rage

Seldom are the times
wherein I have been described,
talked about, or introduced,
or ever been defined
as a man of mighty rage;
a man who may parade
about and cast a doubt
on whether he is sane.

Yet I have come to find,
in these recent days of mine,
I tread about with red about
my face and it seems I
have fallen into yelling,
screaming, huffing, telling
those I love to flee as doves,
unrelenting and unquelling.

I wonder if they understand
the fact I feel the thunder and
do not intend these benders that
destroy, destruct and then disband
support for me and love they give
I deeply need from them to live,
lest I break and cry and shake,
and beg them to forgive.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: