My Anger

October 17, 2007
By chelsea brinson, Kiezer, OR

My anger,
It boils up inside of me.
People ask what’s wrong.
Can’t they tell I’m angry?
They can tell I’m being strong.

My Anger,
I can’t be controlled,
Instead of freaking out,
I go for a stroll.

My Anger,
People may call me a freak,
Because of my anger streak.
My anger’s like a bomb,
Ready to explode.
My mom saves me from an overload!


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