The feelings rise once again,
can't tell the difference between foe or friend.
Feel the anger swell into my soul,
need more than ten breaths to take control.

I'm mad as hell,
but in control as well.
I need my time,
to stop on a dime.

Now that red sight premates my vision,
hate sparking like nuclear fission.
Swear I can't stand things until they mend,
better to break knuckles than to hit a friend.

I've lost control,
but not my soul.
Things will be fine,
when I stop on a dime.

10/17/2003

Posted on 10/18/2003
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