Rage

If I could draw a sound,
Then for you, a sound I'd draw.
Metal crashing stiff as stone,
Screeching hacked against a saw.
The wailing of the silent mouse
Caught in a kitten's jaws,
The anger of a jail inmate
Against the nation's laws.
Here's a sound for you, I fear.
A sound you've heard before:
A razor slices wood and lead;
Shavings falling to the floor.
The black smudge tip pressed hard against
Lined paper, so you see,
My rage is quiet in my head;
Let loose in poetry.

View vanillabruise's Full Portfolio
Jamar Wilson's picture

This poem has a great flowing scheme to it!