Anger Poems | Examples of Anger Poetry

A hooded black robe to the ground Standing looking without a sound Whose turn is it in their final fall Waiting potently for their last call Do you see the signs in the sky written Or a scripture that was at home driven I walk towards the setting sun And can’t fail to see a world undone Do I slip wanting...

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A dinosaur, two tons or three, Heard tell from a mammal quite wee: “Why, one day your tar Shall burn in a car That’s driven by creatures like me!” ...

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A man who thinks he’s king Being elected is the thing There is a Mighty deserving Heavenly King Orange turning the White House as a personal castle Executive orders like a treason Confusing world doesn’t know the reason Orange wants people to think his way If you don’t follow his way, you separately estray Decisions after decisions is a must listen Verbal attacks after...

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I cut my finger to the bone and cauterized the wound with melted chocolate. I rather enjoy the taste of pain. ...

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Welcome to my life—it's a wild ride with twists and drops that leave me breathless, mirroring the storms within. Heavy chains pull at me, and though I rise, gravity reminds me of my place—unseen, just echoes left behind. Some days, I feel weightless, lifted by joy, soaring beyond doubt into a kingdom of sky, every breath...

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“How my life has changed” “Reformation” I wrote a poem A long time ago. It was full of despair And gray cloudy skies. It made me cry. I then saw a child, Playing in a park, Laughing and full of joy. I wrote no more Of gray cloudy skies. “Reformation-2” I wrote a poem The other day, It was full of joy And sunny skies. It made me smile. I...

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My brain is flooded I feel so worn I’m always tired My mind is torn Too many options Not enough time I struggle But it’s in my mind I’m here and there I’m happy, I’m sad I’m never both But I’m always mad ...

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The boy has a garden of which he is proud. It's a safe place for him when the world is too loud. In it he grows joy, and fear and laughter and tears. He waters lovely blue plants (they remind him of songs) and winding green plants (they remind him of past wrongs). In time, throughout the garden grows a vine bright red. One he never planted yet grows there...

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Does your so-called honesty only lead to tribulation? Honestly, life without you makes me feel nothing but blissful vindication- indication of all the time you stole out from under me. I was blind not to see the slyness hidden behind your eyes. And my foolishness nearly led to an early demise. But if you're a fox,...

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Mother’s Day feels like a joke with no punchline, like the kind of card you don’t buy because you’d have to lie in cursive. I stare at the shelves lined with pastel lies, the soft-scripted thank yous, and the you’ve always been there's. I want to scream at the cardboard. Always been there? Where? In...

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It was during those bleak nights when I’d wake up screaming in a bucket of sweat. The times I hailed you with bullets full of ugly insults. I’d cry in your arms, my mind wracked with guilt. The holes in the walls— they’re plastered up now. The room is silent as I watch you weep holding the last photo you took of me. I did try to...

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Within the heart lies the capacity for incredible violence. And none are so endangered as those who linger near. The common turn of phrase is, "the heart is an organ the size of a fist", so no one can question the bruises....

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From the blueness of the sky, there's truth hidden beneath the skin. Conscience knows the scene: if not life, then death holds the truth, so I choose to stay with the truth. You raise love only to take life. You sing love songs to the sun, reciting lyrics of hate to the stars, sharing my time with hate and death, closing my tunnel to...

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When I was serious You took for granted. Totally ignored my requests Treated them like games. Then used it against. To support your anger. Flying those Fs words Towards my fine face. Once, I tried teasing you, You found it too offensive. Ended our very unstable friendship, While behaving insensibly and immaturely, When thing has gone dead, What would you do instead? Long for many new days, So I...

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No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence. Well, I've never been innocent. And so, there is nothing left to do but seek. What's lost is found, and what's found is never good enough. So I guess you better work harder at washing their blood off of your hands— and the blood they spilt in an attempt to taint you. Yet here I stand: unmoved, and untainted. ...

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