Anger simmering, I try to block,
but fighting a losing battle.
Struggling to keep it within,
escaping, temper starts to rise up.
Past boiling, now molten lava,
prepared to singe all in its path.
Jolted into full throttle, the rant begins,
berating those who deserve no less.
Not stopping for breath; the tirade continues,
pointing out all the wrongs inflicted on me.
Eventually there is nothing left to stoke the fire;
with no steam rising I start to cool off.
My anger abated, but I was all alone,
the wrath directed at the invisible.
Arguments are only acted out in my head,
a release valve for my sanity.
The anger has hurt only myself,
then stored with the imaginary multitudes.