I pound my head
I hurl my books
I gnash my teeth
And make enemies of my friends.

This anger in not their fault --
Whose it is, I do not know;
I just get so frustated and mad
And then I start to cry.

I get really quiet
Like the calm before the storm.
Yet I stay really quiet
And just bottle it all up inside.

I want to talk -- just talk,
But I don't know to whom
So I just keep it to myself
And sit, lonely, in my room.

30 Jan 1988