Anger

I’ve held it in, as long as I could,
thinking that if I can I should,
even as I burned with rage
trapped within my mental cage.

I’ve let it out, without thought or care,
on strangers and loved ones: whoever was there
to witness a grown man melting down,
his twisted mouth making tortured sounds.

I’ve let it in, let it consume my being,
anyone who disagrees a filthy philistine,
until I shut absolutely everyone out,
my hate unwavering, no room for doubt.

I’ve let it go, knowing there’s nothing to be said.
Any hope of reconciliation is long gone and dead.
I feel no more anger, no hatred or disdain.
I now feel only numbness to both pleasure and pain.

Terence Tuhinanshu

Terence Tuhinanshu

poet. thinker. designer. developer. citizen of the world.
Philadelphia