• Anger,
    My anger.
    My anger is red,
    Dark red
    sinister looking.
    He is friends with fear
    And twins with terror.
    My anger is rotting.
    He has died many years ago
    But he is still with me.
    He smells horrible,
    Unpreserved.
    My anger makes the air stale,
    Making it impossible to breath.
    My anger feels like gravel
    And shards of glass.
    He scrapes my skin
    By bushing up against me.
    He sends shivers down my spine
    And tears my flesh causing me to bleed.
    The ground shakes when he is near.
    His stomping feet can be heard for miles.
    He loves no one
    And lives nowhere.
    He follows me around.
    Jumping in front of me,
    Causing me to trip
    And fall.
    I hate him
    And he hates me
    But we are brothers
    And have to live with it
    Or die in anger!