Anger short poem

Photo by aj stephens

Words, like thorns
With poisoned tips:
Drawing blood,
Inflicting pain;
The hurt becoming
A blinding rage,
Lashing out, so no one
Dares again.


And numberless years
Of lashing out,
Of building fences
With barbed wires;
To preserve, protect,
Or is it imprison
The heart with Anger
Like Hell’s own fires?


No space for beauty,
No room for laughter:
A bleak terrain
That stretches wide;
A barren landscape
Of sharp-edged flint:
No place for a smile
Or cheer to abide.


What life is this?
What burdens these?
Why carry them,
Weighing down the Soul?
Just shrug them off,
Let Anger go
And Love come in,
To heal, make whole.


For, Love can blunt
The sharpest thorns,
Relieve all hurt
And ease all pain;
Make flowers bloom
In arid sands,
And from the heart
All poison drain.


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Enjoyed reading your poem!


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