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[POEM] Anger

A good nice face turns weird,

An eye blinks with the clock,

And with each tick-tock,

A devil makes its way and walk.


Perspiring and worried,

You dig the mud and seek,

A way to put a stop at it

But you feel so weak.



And, strange, black, fierce power from inside, appears,

Destroying everything with it’s wind, out loud,

Takes the shape of the harsh words,

And gets you alone in the crowd.



The dark force, doesn’t leave residuals.

It takes all the past and the present,

It screws the friendship, the bond, everytime,

And leaves you with tears, if it hasn’t.



Published in Poetry

One Comment

  1. shilpa shilpa


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