Anger
Right i wrote this, becouse i’m getting sick and tired of people and i just need to write this out.
Anger
Anger, Rage, No self-esteem.
Fuel for the fires of torment.
Pressure build up inside of me.
Is this how it’s always been?
Pain of cuts, to soothe the mind
Burning skin as my witness
Bleeding hate from every vein
Defiantly, a freak of mankind.
Or so as seen by others, around.
Death is for the sick and the weak.
Especially when forced by one’s own hand.
But why must we suffer here, bound?
Happiness is for the strong.
Them who oppress and torment.
They who know no mercy for others.
Humanity gone horribly wrong.
The honest get the pain, the rage
So they can suffer in vain.
To be laughed at and locked up.
Their mind, their emotions, their cage.
Now I could go on about this.
But I think the point is clear.
It hurts to be treated like dirt.
Yet people don’t see what’s amiss.
But there’s one thing I’ve learned.
That my demons my soul,
and the endless pain I’ve felt.
Don’t need to be physical, to hurt.
Legion.