An angry poem

You can't blame me for how I feel
Lacerations twitch my kneels and blisters scale my heels
And my heart winds the reels
You can't blame me for how I feel
The hooks gone rusty
But still be no catch
I burn the fire
But no ferry I fetch
I'll be clenching these fists so tight
And squeeze out these tears of a melancholic night.
So what if the acid burns my filled stomache
When I'm starving in a famine of broken dreams
She walks this way, and walks away
Steps over the letters which I've strung and lay
And I wanted to stand point and lead
But now i'm left where open wounds bleed
Explicities roll off my tongue,
Blunt as my mind
And the wants for a change
Becomes a suffocating bind
And the best locks where my closest feelings be kept
Morph to an open floor where the winds have them swept
Angst says maul in vengence
Conscions fence me in sane defence
But of all the wars I indulge, in a punishment gluttony
There is one of the all which instead devours me
The mountains I cannot move, the rivers I can never change
The noise I cannot silence, and the happiness in mocking range
Sure I am angry, but what do you care?
Give me an example of one time, anywhere
Shovelling feet carry me through the bars and i'll lock myself up
The walls will scream out graffiti depressions while I down a poison cup
Even perspiration will race to keep a distance of my fluctuating thoughts
And the pulsating rythm shallows in eroding clots
I cant sleep because my intuition is twisted
And more twisted it becomes when the night races pass me
I am angry that I cant think of confide
Only to lead myself to social suicide
So upon a passing soul I plead for a dime
Roll on the floor like a demented mime
To recieve a palm of treason injustice
So I cling to its ankles with desperate practice
To taste the shun of an even more broken charade
Impale my discrimination in the charade parade
I'd say **** the world but there are nicer words to use
to describe a heart splintered into my skin,
A mind far abused.

Charles