Anger

lives in

a hockey

stick.

Everything

is bottled

in the stick

waiting to

explode

like a

tornado.

He wears

all red

like a

stop

sign:

bright

and bold.

When he is

angry

he lets it all go

by hitting something.

HARD.

He hangs out with calm.

For short seconds.

Just to start it all over again

Tomorrow.