The Silly Angry Poem

The Silly Angry Poem

A vortex of grinding gumption gearing to get out,
In the very depths of my being, a tune rings about,
Like an honest man with a righteous cause,
Charging in without the slightest pause,
Marching down upon the shoulders of war,
Pounding rhythmically through every corridor,
He rallies his troops from their great big cage,
Where sleeps the incarnation of ultimate rage,
Claws and paws maul the bars and the entrapment begins to shake,
Chains lash around, the fiends are vexed to make their break,
And like the culmination of prophecy it all happens at once,
They gush forth and ricochet as if blind, deaf and dunce,
It comes over me like a wave washing away all emotion,
Like a shadow consuming day with unwavering devotion,
Smashing through, cell by cell, corrupting and manipulating,
Creeping in, standing hairs on end, virulently stimulating,
All the while sitting here, pondering my heart,
What would have happened if truth and loyalty hadn’t fallen apart?

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