Anger

It lives inside a little box

Neatly trimmed sealed and wrapped

It climbs the sides and crescendos and divides

It grows

This - not irritation not annoyance not avoidance

Direct action

Spoken spittle flying and colliding

See pain and react, detract from sane

thoughts and decisions leading to incisions

Harnessed and detained

The End

4 comments about this poem Feed