Anger is a serpent,
Writhing in your belly,
Its scales are hot
Searing the insides of your being.
A foul gas results from the scorching,
Rising in your gullet,
Spewing out in a whiplash of bitter words.
Still inside you,
Lurks the tightly coiled serpent,
Awaiting a foolish being
To prod it with a stick,
And bring it alive once again,
Stoking the flames
Of hate, anger, and bitterness.

 
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