<u>Tired of Being Angry</u>


    <u> </u>


    I’m tired of being angry, of this heat within my chest.


    Yet as I think of giving up my grudge I know that rage is best.


    For I will not cry surrender, for that way lies despair.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    My life would be so easy, if I didn’t not care.


    What happened to compassion? Why is kindness a dirty word?


    Victory at any cost? My vision becomes blurred.


    I remember a better time, or perhaps I’m just na?ve.


    It was full of hope for a future I now know I shall not see.


    Once in a generation recessions twice, and a pandemic rather rare.


    As we face the mindless derision, of our brainwashed forebears.


    “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps.”


    So proclaims purest poppycock.


    But how can you explain to a bootlicker


    The meaning of paradox.


    I’m tired of being angry


    But I’ll be damned if I stop.