Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Empty bottles are empty
Slammed by the wind,
Sliced by thick raindrops.
I'm confused and
Wandering blindly in a
Rage of my own storm.
Who told you
I couldn't make anger?
You've never vacationed
In the caverns of my mind.
You've never been lost
On the trail of my thought.
I can get angry,
I bottle it and sell it
For cheap, to spare
Myself the embarrassment
Of having to express it.
The bottles are empty
But the negativity is there.
5-4-09
Sliced by thick raindrops.
I'm confused and
Wandering blindly in a
Rage of my own storm.
Who told you
I couldn't make anger?
You've never vacationed
In the caverns of my mind.
You've never been lost
On the trail of my thought.
I can get angry,
I bottle it and sell it
For cheap, to spare
Myself the embarrassment
Of having to express it.
The bottles are empty
But the negativity is there.
5-4-09
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Empty bottles are empty
Empty bottles are empty