Poem by WR Buckley

I am weak, it makes me angry.
I am tired, it makes me cry.
I am trapped, it makes me feel alone.

Trapped, weak and tired
No thought of the beast.

Helpless to stop, yet it comes.
The ever lightened flame,
Sending sweat down the back.
The vicious cycle began again.
Awake the children. Awake the noise.

Still is the animal trapped, weak and tired.

Now cornered, it lashes.
It attacks the life it’s created.
Angered at the noise. The chaos.
It stumps low, angry and alone.

Trapped, weak and tired.
No thought of the beast.

Stop the crying.
Yet one cannot, save the beast.
Anger with the cry, beast and child.
Anger with weariness.
Trapped in this vicious cycle.

Still is the animal trapped, weak and tired.

Pacing to and from,
The beast cries, growls, moans.

Release, Release,
I will return.
But the child pleads.
Weakly, the beast submits.

Trapped, weak and tired.
To be free, cries the beast.