I am angry at my self. <br />Really really mad. <br />I tried sincerely to convince, <br />But as stubborn that he is, <br />Refuses listen, <br />To distilled wisdom. <br />What is the problem I ask? <br />In being a turnstile? <br />You run no risk, <br />Riveted, <br />Safe, <br />In supreme calm, <br />Turn clockwise, <br />Turn anti clockwise, <br />You do your job, <br />You are in sync with the lord. <br />He will not listen. <br />He takes out a cigar, <br />Like an Italian Mafioso, <br />With dames around, <br />Bites the end off, <br />Flames the other, <br />Smokes a deep one, <br />Does a bottoms up, <br />And jeers at me, <br />Sonny, <br />I was born to be a Ferrari. <br />Not red, Pink. <br />Not because I like it, <br />Just for the heck of it.<br /><br />Hardik Vaidya<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-am-angry-so-what/
