The Moon, an Anger and a Sadness

The Anger suddenly builds!
There’s no way to let it out.
Who would I let it out on:
On Him, on Fact, on Me, on Doubt?

I have spent the Sadness
All that I had to give,
Now I burst with Anger
That doesn’t want to forgive.

The Moon laughs at me,
She who I know so well;
How this story will end,
Even she can foretell.

I turn away from her, too,
She who has been a friend;
She is no longer someone
On whom I can depend.

Like most of the hearts
To whom I gave my love,
She lies far away,
In an unreachable above.

I have nothing to offer,
I have nothing more to say,
When heartbreak comes calling,
I’ll let him have his way.

I had such hopes,
Such hopes had I,
I had tried so hard,
How hard I still try;

But it all comes to nought,
I have no more of me to give,
So all I can do is love,
All I get to do is live.

I am angry for a reason;
But reasons are no excuse;
No one wishes to learn;
Everyone has their own views.

I ramble on and I rant and rave,
I have tried it all, you see;
I am angry now, but in a while,
I’ll bear each end willingly.

Daddy Dearest

I guess my dad handicapped me:
With iron fists and alcohol breath,
He showed me a path to anger,
He brought me closer to death.
I cheated his on-hand lessons
To follow my sexual heart,
And thought myself so strong and proud
To escape the gay, body mart.
But men who are lovers become fathers,
Eventually, soon or late,
Iron breath is replaced by cold fancy,
Waiting a line away from hate.
So dad conceived a wriggly sperm,
That he thought wriggled out way too wrong,
So here the poor thing vainly sits and writes,
Still hoping to seem strong through this song.

Dramatic

Let’s be dramatic: I am furious.
Torn apart by those who should care –
Either by love or indifference –
It’s getting too much to bear!

I expect to love who do love;
But I end up with those who hurt –
So pain is another form of love:
Does it prove how much love’s truly worth?

I want to scream, I wish to escape,
I want to be rid of this colossal dead weight,
That oppresses my should-be, maybe soul,
While time puts it in an unending wait.

For what reason? Leading to what end?
What use the lover? Where is the friend?
How am I alone in such bitter cold?
Why must suffering gain this much hold?

Why cannot people be a bit kinder?
Why cannot love be a bit blinder?
If I do not release this anger soon,
I’ll end up crying, dramatically dying.

But do not deign to offer me hope;
Because that’s the biggest liar here;
He shelters such expectation,
Which commands me to kneel and adhere.

I have seen differently,
I have felt the opposite,
Disease surrounds his being,
Corroding all around bit by bit.

Metaphysical thought can go take a leap!
I am sick of knowing how Karma multiplies!
And though I squeeze hope by the throat,
He thrives and my anger wantonly survives.