D(anger) in the Lion's Den
My name is anger. You gave me permission to speak up.
My name is anger. I am calling you out for seeing me, but for not allowing yourself to feel me… To express me.
My name is anger. You do not dare express me, But when I sneak up on you, You say you have no compassion for me.
Or that something like me ((ANGER)) prevents you from having compassion for me.
Because you do not feel me, You say you are confused. Why should you have no compassion for me?
My name is anger. I simmer in your belly, Receiving insult after insult as you watch me grow impatient.
Your name is anger. I am tired of you always taking front stage. You take up too much of my time. Can we move onto me now, Anger?
Can you feel me too, Anger?