So I was looking through my stuff and I found an old poem that, I assume, was for a class. So let's share it, because why not?
It has no title, but the theme was Anger:
It's usually a tiny spark
Something I shouldn't have read
An unkind comment spouted from hate
I try to not notice
Move past it
But that's a foolish objective
I know I won't forget
It will fester inside me
So I just let it consume me
Let's get this over with.
That metaphoric spark becomes real
I feel heat all over me
My face becomes hot with anger
My eyes wet with tears
It's inevitable, really
I have to let it out or it'll keep replaying in my brain
I open a notebook
Let the anger out through my fingertips
I talk to friends
Remind myself that I am loved
And that this will pass.
And it does.
It always does.
Thank you for reading! And have a good night, guys! ✌🏻