There he was positioned in front of the <br />reflection and through the eyes he senses <br />the hint of anger. <br /> <br />As he stares he yells, <br />hands clenched and his voice booming <br />through the walls of his room. <br />He yells at his stupidity and his insanity, <br />of his depression restraining him whole, <br />he yells at the reflection that's in his way <br />of what he really was. <br /> <br />Every word he's yelled he's inflicted <br />on his kids, <br />every dropp of anger led from abuse he's installed <br />upon marks of misery on his own flesh and blood. <br /> <br />He points a finger at this madman that stands before him <br />pointing back, <br />and tells him that he's nothing, <br />that his anger is overpowering everything that <br />he use to be, <br />that with all the people he should blame <br />for his unhappiness it should be him <br /> <br />His eyes tell a story of a lonely little <br />boy inside his depressing heart, <br />now a grown man with kids of his own and still <br />he yells in fright. <br /> <br />This battle on his own is slowly wearing down, <br />because inside he's losing what he had, <br />that even his daughter at sixteen can't deal with his <br />prescence being around her because he's so sad. <br /> <br />So he looks with the anger through his eyes he's dead, <br />but inside he's still that little kid, <br />so when he burns all his bridges down, <br />he's gonna be by himself instead. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Touchy subject but I wrote it because of my father. <br /> Thank you for reading.<br /><br />Elizabeth Tyease Collins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/his-anger/
