Anger
Bent on anger, built on rage
held in by this man's
hand cage.
Feeling empty, left by love.
Helplessly falling
from above.
Drifting silently from the
sky.
Hopelessly saying my
final goodbyes.
Kissess from below
the grave I dug
whispering hello.
From my chambers resting
in peace.
the finality all I
will release.
Tempted by heaven,
tainted by hell.
My body laying
in its final cell.
Goodbye to happiness
goodbye to pain.
My soul i s dropping
like the hard
summer's rain.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Ghetto Tales | 0 | 03/18/2015 |
| WHAT YOU NEED? | 0 | 01/06/2010 |
| BAG OF TROUBLE | 0 | 01/06/2010 |
| Drug Dream | 0 | 01/06/2010 |
| Anger | 0 | 01/06/2010 |
| Would I? | 0 | 01/06/2010 |
| My life | 1 | 11/04/2009 |
| DECISIONS | 0 | 10/23/2009 |
| Ain't Changed | 1 | 10/23/2009 |
| Saturdays | 1 | 07/22/2009 |
| First | 0 | 07/09/2009 |
| I Remember | 1 | 07/06/2009 |
| My Life | 2 | 05/21/2009 |
| The Hill | 0 | 05/21/2009 |
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