Blinding Anger
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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Blinding anger brushed aside, given no importance to,
feelings pent up with no where else to go, turning in
and finding a place to hide.
Daily taking walks away, so as not to feel the slight
of each passing day, character is building itself out
of blocks of clay, nothing stronger can be found within.
Settling in amid soiled debris, life finds itself in
everyone else's mire, turning to no one, reaching out
nowhere, fancifully becoming nonexistent, folding itself
among the grey matter of a brain.
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