<u>Tired of Being Angry</u>


    <u> </u>


    I’m tired of being angry, of this heat within my chest.


    Yet as I think of giving up my grudge I know that rage is best.


    For I will not cry surrender, for that way lies despair.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    My life would be so easy, if I didn’t not care.


    What happened to compassion? Why is kindness a dirty word?


    Victory at any cost? My vision becomes blurred.


    I remember a better time, or perhaps I’m just na?ve.


    It was full of hope for a future I now know I shall not see.


    Once in a generation recessions twice, and a pandemic rather rare.


    As we face the mindless derision, of our brainwashed forebears.


    “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps.”


    So proclaims purest poppycock.


    But how can you explain to a bootlicker


    The meaning of paradox.


    I’m tired of being angry


    But I’ll be damned if I stop.