I stare down at my bleeding knuckles with a sigh.
I am full of rage, and I don’t even know why.

I can no longer even feel the pain
Therefore I feel it is just in vain

The blood drips more and more into the dirt
Each punch reminding me more and more of the hurt

I punch harder and harder, until my hands are bloody and broken
But to get rid of sadness and rage, this is but a small token

I destroy myself so that I do not hurt those around me
Instead I only inflict harm to myself and this pine tree

I don’t want to be angry, I don’t want to hate
But with my bleeding knuckles, I decide this must be my fate