It starts as a low rumble
You can’t quite place its source
It’s like the sound of a distant train
As the big diesel engines pull up the grade
And their sounds reverberate through the canyon
Soon the low rumble rises up to a deafening roar
As the power and energy seem to grow beyond the possible
Then with all the fury it can muster
It surges past, almost pulling you from your feet
In a flash, it is gone and you are left to wonder
Anger is like that… It comes, it flashes, and then, hopefully, it is gone
Why must we give into anger?
What do we lose when it comes, what have we lost when it goes?
Can there be nothing to calm the anger?
Today we are a nation of angry people
We are inflamed at the injustice of about everything
Or we are outraged at those who are inflamed
We condemn, we belittle, we bemoan
For it always they who are wrong
When did we trade our sanity for the absurd?
Why did we stop our reasoning to choose hate?
Where did we thing we would go, to find peace?
Who are we that we are always right and they wrong?
What will change this state?