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Curious curiosities

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! ✌🏻

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