CASTRATED ANGER

If you don’t fight for what is rightfully yours, you will end up living a life where the joy has been sucked and shared out by others, whilst you the owner look on in hopelessness. I am not talking about breaking the law and living with wild abandon. I am positing that you need to do what needs to be done. You need to take positive actions that will better your lot. You need to fight for your destiny. You need to execute and stop the endless jaw-jaw and rah-rah. Back your words with action. Don’t die in a job or career path that has become a trap of unhappiness and a pit despondency. You need to step out and do what you’ve always wanted to do and be what you have always wanted to be. You don’t need to die under the judgment of men. Stop being afraid of their criticisms. Stop looking at there faces seeking for their approvals. Too many people boast but never execute. They hate stuff going on, but their anger is castrated and can’t give birth to anything. Read this poem and be wise.

Castrated anger

Beating the chest like an angry gorilla

Pounding the dust like a raging buffalo

Teeth bared like an offended tiger

Then tucking your tails in and running for the hills.

Fight

Castrated anger

Beating the drums of war

Bellicose leading to the war

Braggadocious as the trumpet of battle is sounded

Then beating the retreat instead of hitting the street.

Empty boasts

Castrated anger

Makes you blame the forgotten yesterday

for the problems in your crippled today

Whilst doing nothing about the amorphous tomorrow

Welcome to the historiography of men whose legacy is to do nothing.

Castrated anger,

Makes men talk about history

When they ought to fight for the victory

That will move them out of misery

To the paradise of liberty.

Castrated anger,

Preferring unspoken rebuke instead of open confrontation

The heart is raging but the mouth is not moving

Groaning and moaning but doing nothing about their discomfort

A life full of unfixed issues stinking like an un-treated sore.

Castrated anger

Making the treasure of wisdom a mockery

The versatility of knowledge a painful wastage

Wasting time pontificating instead of acting

Always afraid of rocking the boat or ruffling the feathers.

Teary eyes

Now they have become crying victims and compliant fools

When a little valor could have made them the victor

Never wanting to upset others, their lives are beset with regret

It’s not their fault, they were bred to be sheep, not lion.

SELAH

To read another Poem follow this link A king we must enthrone

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