I feel the angst as it builds up in me.
This afternoon I cross a swirling sea
of an emotion I would rather hide.
My face drips with the many tears I’ve cried
about this situation that will not
be changed. The saber in my heart, white-hot
and constant, pierced its blade two years ago.
While I should be sky-high, I’ve fallen low,
and no, I cannot figure out the whys.
A deprivation makes my anger rise.
I’ve learned to keep this feeling under wraps
so I don’t fall down further in its traps.

July 1, 2012 at 11:57 am
Poetry outlet is a fine control device. Disappointment issue challenged successfully with this very well written poem of yours…
July 1, 2012 at 12:00 pm
Thank you, Lindy. I really appreciate your comments.
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