If tears had words
They wouldn’t be needed
And if pressure could burst
Gently
There would be no point
Volcanoes lay dormant
For Millenia
Beneath basalt
And turf
Lava boils unheeded
There is a point to anger
It has magnificent power
But if it can’t be contained
Controlled,
Built
It adds nothing to the moment
Meer vapid noise
The jangle of loose tin in the wind
Ignored without and within
Only
Fury spilled to channel with intent
An inner switch
Tipped to relentless
Unspooled
Victory uncoiling on time
Grand canyons
Will be created with mine
*small vent allowed. When wound into poetry it is safe to handle. All good, have a lovely day people x
