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anger ii

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yeah, okay, so i'm angry
and why shouldn't i be
after all
i keep trying to pull the knife
from out of my back
but everytime i reach back
to feel around
for why i still hurt so bad
it's still there
or maybe it's a fresh one...

angry? hell, yeah
and what's wrong with that
when the two people
who meant the most to me
took everything i am
and ridiculed it
and stripped me naked
and paraded me through the streets
hands tied behind my back
and held court
and called themselves as witnesses
and sat at the judges bench
and convicted me, guilty as charged
and worthy of a slow, tortuous demise
who wouldn't be angry

upset? naw, you're jokin', right?
i mean, i only gave you two
all of the ammunition that
i ever dare give anyone
for safe keeping
for protection
and what did you do
but load up the weapons
and let me have it
both barrels
now i'm a bloody mess
full of holes
unlikely to ever trust again

angry? you're surprised?
i'm screamin', cussin',
baseball-bat swinging
golf ball driving through a plate glass window
fist through the sheetrock
tired of being the whipping post
no longer a door mat
abuser becomes the victim
pull my finger from the dyke
let the thunder roll, sugar
and the chips fall where they may

you expected something else?

(will the real jc please stand up)

© 2001 (2 february) john r. chase

don't dial 911, no police are needed... anger is healthy, it tells us something is wrong. how we choose to respond to anger (or anything!) is where we can get in trouble. okay, so the pen is mightier than the sword, but i just gotta get this stuff out, or it will eat me alive.