on angry mornings like this,
i hate being reminded
of the right thing to do.
i that that it’s my own mind
reminding me: release the anger.
i hate that. anger feels good,
and there’s so much to be angry about, yet –
i hate that anger comes so easily,
that anger feels so necessary.
i hate how angry this world makes me,
and how weak my anger makes me.
i hate being useless. i want a powerful anger
that crushes the bastards.
i hate how they are getting away with
their blatant attempts to destroy everything.
i hate that i can’t live in peace
or my grandchildren expect a good future.
i hate that i am angry so much of the time
and it accomplishes nothing.
i hate the frustration.
the anger. the fear. the injustice.
i hate it all!
most of all
i hate the anger.
i am tired of being angry.
i think
perhaps
it is time
to wake up.