"Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage"

ANGER

Green Thunder

Shadows swirl,
Defeated angels curl,
Scholarly stagnation,
Trampled elation,
Creeping depression,
Growing obsession,
Pained rage,
Bloody page,
Imprisonment,
God sent?
Dreaming of the stars,
Visions of electric guitars,
There is no spoon,
There is no more room,
Mounting hate,
Second chances are too late,
Hanging crosses,
Tyrannical bosses,
Am I living my own burial?
Searching for Ariel
Crying to the Lord,
I’m the one with the worst hand on the board,
I’ve been this way for years,
I’ve put up with the evil spirits’ jeers,
I’m not sure how longer I can take this rejection,
Longing, staring at my ugly reflection,
I can hear the voices,
The ones on each shoulder at every one of my choices,
All crying DISORDER!
I’m stuck in isolated Mordor,
All I can hear is the methodic drumming,
I have to dance to that constant thrumming,
Even though I can’t move,
I got a God to prove,
Even through my doubts,
So I can save all the heathen louts,
So….you know what?
I’m not gonna waste my emotions on you and turn into a raving nut,
I despise you people,
Let others pray to you on your fair steeple,
I’ll let you fester,
I’m no longer gonna pester,
Staring at the gravestone,
Gazing at my illuminated monitor; in the dark; all alone,
What have I got to live for?
A chance to rise from my chains and soar?
But every time I glance at the Holy Grail,
I don’t really believe, and I fail,
I stare at the ground,
And wonder if I’ve truly been found,
Away from the populous,
Living in the gutters of Metropolis,
Looking for a way out,
Encircled by doubt,
What would I do if I found a gun?
Trust me…. that day at my school would not be fun,
Watch them go to the fair one and bow,
As they pray to their gods and give them a fattened cow,
All this pain bottled up,
Overflowing in life’s cup,
Don’t know where to go with my life and this poem,
Not in the in crowd; don’t even know any of them,
I can’t even by taken away from here; beamed,
Running down the mountain I have dreamed,
Anger at the world,
My flag of rage unfurled,
Righteousness tainted,
Blood upon the walls will be painted,
Then they’ll know how it is to be dead,
Lying all alone, unable to move from their bed,
I lie there by myself while listening to rap,
Stagnant in life’s sweat and crap,
Always getting the girls you don’t want,
While the ones you do just smile at you and taunt,
It’s not fair,
Watching all the pairs,
By yourself,
Watching the formerly empty window shelf,
If I gain a fortune,
They’ll be on me before the next June,
It doesn’t truly matter,
But everyone else is allowed to flatter,
Not the cripple,
Not the cripple,
He’s all by himself in the corner,
Watching his life pass him by; the mourner,
His smile is broken,
Even when he is jokin’
He used to be glad,
Before he became melancholic and sad,
That was before he realized how it really is,
This is how they do it in the life biz,
Life’s not a fairy tale,
So I’m gonna raise my sad sail,
In my small boat,
In a storm without a coat,
I’m just a joke
I’ll just go smoke a tree like an average bloke,
Why should I try anyway?
I have to work three times as hard to get the same pay,
So why should I care?
I’m just the fat stupid teddy bear,
What are these visions of green lightning,
And blue dreams that are truly frightening,
What are they?
Who was really born on the thirtieth of May?
Will he burn the righteous with wood,
Or stand up for what is good,
He doesn’t know,
All he knows is teenage aggression and its makin’ him low,
He’s still a cripple,
He is still just as fickle,
But he’s angry,
And it won’t last,
Maybe they’ll hear with a violent gat blast…