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Saint Angry
by Jersey D GibsonHe walks along that red road,
it's what he keeps inside.
Fury built up to boiling point,
the hell he tires to hide.
There he goes, Saint Angry at the world,
bites the hand, that takes in the nail.
Doesn't stop, to let himself feel,
he'd rather cry, scream, and wail.
This Saint's so angry...
His wounds, so strong, they can't stop,
they drive him to homicide.
All the children go to him,
when they should run and hide.
There he goes, Saint Angry at the world,
he bites the hand, that takes in the nail.
Doesn't stop to let himself heal,
keeps his secrets hidden behind the veil.
This Saint's so angry,
dear God, he's angry at you.
Your Saint's so angry,
so lost, don't know what to do.
Blood vision, with his hands clenched,
feel his grip getting tighter.
Beastial yell, hel'll never flinch,
feel his strength grow mightier.
There he goes, Saint Angry at the world,
cuts off the hand, that takes in the nail.
Can his rage be so damn real?
Loses himself in hat without fail.
Dear Saint, you're angry... 04/14/2004 Author's Note: Poem of the Month! December 2004
Posted on 04/14/2004
Copyright © 2024 Jersey D Gibson
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Maureen Glaude on 04/14/04 at 03:18 PM wow, I like this. We do see these people, full of rage and with chips on their shoulders. Powerful. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 04/14/04 at 05:16 PM In a past life (adolescenece sometimes) this could have applied to me in some ways. Strong piece of writing Jersey, and BTW, welcome back. Hows military life treating you? |
| Posted by Anne Engelen on 04/15/04 at 05:20 AM amazing poetry |
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