That’s Why They Call It Mad

Sometimes they call it angry.
Sometimes they call it hot.
Rational and self controlled
Are words they call it, not.

Whatever you may call it,
There’s too much of it around.
No matter where you look,
It is, by far, too often found.

I think about my own shoes.
How my anger runs so deep.
Such worthless, useless feelings,
that, for years, I chose to keep.

I broke it down, a bit today.
in trying to explain.
The worst of our emotions,
one that, often, causes pain.

In looking back, I realize,
The root of all my fears.
Were all these angry feelings,
That I’ve carried all these years.

It starts out as frustration.
It evolves in seconds flat.
To full blown temper tantrums,
Are you getting where I’m at?

There’s lots of words to call it,
This insaneness we’ve all had.
But nothing else explains it,
Quite as well as being “MAD”!