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A Hall of Fame for Fists

Contributed by Doriens_Picture on Thursday, 21st October 2004 @ 12:51:43 PM in AEST
Topic: AngryPoetry

A hall of fame for fists

Mural painted over with crimson

Chasms made of anger

Knuckles bleeding dry

Making puddles on the floor

On walls that take everything

Pound away the rage

Not wanting to hurt anyone

A soul that needs venting

No one gets in the way of

As echoes from crashing hands

On concrete

Can be heard from far away

The wall seems to fall apart

But it’s me who has reached his limit

Heavily come crashing down

And all goes dark again

The floor is cold and familiar

From when my anger last took control

And my demons became me

Locked my self in my room

And took it out on the wall again

That is now just broken bits of plaster

And here again on the floor

Slowly reawakening

And looking at my gallery

My hall of fame for fists

Where my best work is done

And my soul is set free

Copyright © Doriens_Picture ... [ 2004-10-21 12:51:43]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: A Hall of Fame for Fists (User Rating: 1 )
by Apardame on Thursday, 21st October 2004 @ 03:17:01 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

My cousin would love this poem. Whenever he got really angry, he would just beat his wall. Finally his mom kicked him out the house. This is a great write!!!

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