Seven deadly Sins: Wrath
Anger consumes me. Vengance in my blood
This may be Justice. My conscience is clear as Mud
What causes me? Anything can
The littlest thing can upset men. In came violence ran
My feelings boil over. Simply, I get mad
Yes, I am a sin. But am I really that bad?
There are seven of us. I'm just the fifth.
Maybe the sixth. Is only a myth
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.