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Inside Rage
March 8, 2010
One, Two, Three, Four, Five.
With no fear of surviving,
I count to stop the anger,
warning the people of dark danger.
Rage is trapped inside me.
This old bone body needs to be set free.
Can’t walk fast, Can’t talk fast,
trying to get out of the pale past.
A punch, a kick, again and again.
The fight that won’t end.
Many people gaze but don’t stop,
as the sturdy male falls on the blacktop.
The bittersweet blood drips down his lips,
One last heave of effort,
Blood, Sweat and Tears.
The man has no fears.
One, Two, Three, Four, Five
© Rebecca Y., Los Angeles, CA
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