by The Product Poet
We each have our Fury.
Mine is buried deep inside.
Waiting to explode…
…like a volcano.
Wondering who she’ll burn.
Harnessing my Fury.
But her tremors are coming.
My own Richter scale…
…measures her progress.
Many friendships she’s spurned.
Controlling my Fury.
Despite her annoyances.
Not with medication…
…but with meditation.
Patience is what she’s learned.
At peace with my Fury.
She will not turn to rage.
No earthquakes coming…
…to swallow me whole.
But she always will churn.