anger management

an old lady sung her swansong
and greeted the air,
the world,
that owed her everything
from pity to money,
“have a good day, God bless”

and then i realised 
my voice has cracked more times,
though my song has never been sung,
nor the air been graced by my words;

more incoherent syllables 
designed to break backs
and twist minds,

no, i have not sung.

so from the emptiness of my throat,
and vacuum of my heart,
let a song resonate
like the leaves in the fall
let me caress the air with intimacy,
and slowly,

i need not be loud –
even the forest knows the falling of its leaves.

One thought on “anger management

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