Violent Rage

I have been in a violent rage since the day that I was born First it began when from my mother that I was violently torn And then from that day that loss of innocence I still do mourn I am truly the innocent, and at the world I do scorn. Violence it is with me wherever that I might be Where friendship is another man's drink, rage is my cup of tea People enjoy to anger as though that is there strategy And rage is that result, and the victim is always me. I think about my past and the major events in my life My first kiss, my first hug, my siblings and even my wife But then those events brought me anger and hate and also strife I was used and abused, cheated on and then stabbed by their knife. When I wake up in the morning anger is on my mind And when I go to bed at night my temper is all that I can find I think of my rage which was caused by friends not being kind How I wish that my peace and solitude was never left behind. My life is filled with its outrages, anger and its wrath I wish now that when I was walking I had taken a more peaceful path Seems as though I have walked that road for years if correctly I did my math How I wish that my rage could be removed, as simply by taking a bath. I am now so tired my body is so old and worn I wish again and again, I never came out that September morn My mother was the rose and I indeed was her thorn How I wish and pray many times over, that I could of been reborn. Randy L. McClave