Called Anger

I tried as hard as I could,

for I wanted to avoid,

that which was classified as a monster,

that which was called Anger.

But Anger wasn’t all too bad,

rather sweet and elegant,

But others looked at him,

his red eyes and black hair,

his marred skin,

and they looked down on him.

But I embraced him,

though they called me mad for it,

and it’s good that I did,

for in my loneliness,

in this dark room,

He is the only one that hasn’t left me.

Reviews

[KarMarBar]

I really enjoyed this poem and I can certainly relate! I love the transitions from the entire first stanza to the last line. It gave great impact. Great job!