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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1468709
Anger is My Firend
Anger is my friend, when I am raged, leniency I will not lend, I will not break, I will not bend, to make amends, in truth, it is my trend, when my demon lurks, not even God comprehends.

In retrospect, my mind holds dominance, almost as if I wanted this, for ever anger and me remained monogamous, til death do us part, sincerely yours, no empty promises.

What triggers the beast within, when loose a feast of retaliation waits for him, he has a taste for sin, like an alcoholic has a taste for gin, it is a natural thought gone crazed in him.

He is the sum of all my fears and rage that lie deep inside, be wise, once he flares you are but a dead in his eyes, a lust that must be fed, with no regrets, you will see your demise.

His heart is the beat of a drum, his temper is meat of the slums, desires like the greed of bum, rage like the heat of the sun, Anger is my friend and will not stop until the deed is done.
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