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The Jail of the Unjustified
She said,
"You hold your anger
in your hands,
you hold it,
in your hands.
Release it."
And there it was, gripped
in the bony clasp of my fist;
Red as hellfire, sour as piss.
"I can't let it go," I said,
"Because it burns."
This poem is very powerful,
This poem is very powerful, and the second stanza is so dramatic that it leaps off the page toward the reader.
Seryddwr [ap Lloyd]