When I am mad,
I don’t cry or curse,
I don’t screech,
I get a pen,
a paper clean,
my wrath becomes my words,
a poem,
a song to sing.
When I am mad,
I don’t cry or curse,
I don’t screech,
I get a pen,
a paper clean,
my wrath becomes my words,
a poem,
a song to sing.