Poetry

AJ Ryan


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18 january 2012

Fight in the Making

I clench my fists tight,
I feel fired up and able
To bash him with all my might
Like I bash my fists on this table.

His words hurt and pierced me
Like a knife that cuts one dead.
I breath heavy, slowly...and deep,
As I write a letter in my head;

'Dear God, please
Let me smack him in the jaw.
I'm waiting, I'm teased,
Forget the parents' house laws.'

As I pen this poem in rage,
I grind my teeth like hard rocks scraping.
I walk away from this page
Because there's a fight in the making.






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