Anger


Anger, real anger
In all its hues
Rage
Infuses color
My anger muddles my thinking
Dulls my motor reflexes
Ire, real ire
Risky business,
Flame on!
My rage grows cold
like a sliver of ice
In my gut.
I wash off my hands
off your tomfoolery.
I reck not,
I’ll shout!


For a couple of my other poems , look up www.poetry.com and search for poems by Linus Fernandes.

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