Out Of Hand

 

You can't impose your point of view.

I see things differently to you.

You take what you want and fail to give.

Well, I guess that's your prerogative.

There's fury filling up your face,

The air grows thicker in this place.

Your angers growing, now that's a fact.

I guess it's time to let your fists react.

Fists react, fists attack, and fists retract.

Oh no! Oh no! What have you done?

Did you really think it would be fun?

Self realization hits harder than flesh and bone.

Leaves you suddenly feeling spent and alone.

To hit and hurt won't make you stronger,

Your mental bruising will last much longer.

To make a point was your endeavor.

The effect of which will now last forever.

 

Terence Richard Rowlands

 

Submitted to POETRY.COM 18 / 10 / 03

UPDATE

This Poem has been accepted as a semi-finalist in the november 2003 contest. So fingers crossed for this one. ;)