March 18, 2011
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When he is done,
Rage gets his hand out of the wall,
He penetrated with his clenched fist,
Rage throws his empty beer bottle,
Watching it smash,
In millions of pieces,
"F*** you world".
In his hot pursuit,
To his car,
Everything in his way,
Being thrown across the house as if it’s a rag doll,
Thinking of the peoples guts he kills for.
Blood gushes from his badly bruised knuckles.
Every vein and muscle is bulging,
Ripping through his white beater,
As if it was a piece of paper,
Looks like the hulk.
He gasps for air.
Everyone runs away in fear,
Rage drives like a drunk,
Swerving on side walks,
Ruining lawns,
Leaving town,
Everyone’s behind in his dust.

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