I prefer to vent in poetry form
It's not the best venue or even the norm
But it's my best way of calming the storm...
Allow me first to clarify my haste
Before another breathe does go to waste
I abhor most this sour after-taste
So here my venting must take wing to flight
Lest my spirit rage on against the fight
And one more word is uttered forth in spite...
* * *
I really did try telling everyone
Just how scary a place my mind could be
when left to discovery all alone
Do you think anyone listened to me?
Of course it got darker as I went deep
What did all of them expect me to see?
A calm ocean? An embankment un-steep?
Not the decaying dead pieces of me?
I never did like the dark very much
Anyone who knows me, knows this is true
Yet encouraged I went: “Look but don’t touch.”
Was this brilliant advice even thought through?
So here I stand, more confused than before
While criticisms begin to ensue
Wishing I had never opened this door
Only to hear, "What's the matter with you?"