The anger of an angel

A blistering shower of fiery firestorm
Purging fury and angst of old
Stinging words come as a swarm
hurling hurt and scorn afore untold


Poisoned memories make her a puppet
slaving her to ideas that misled
Ego inflates and blows like a trumpet
her cup's too full with assumptions in the head


Tainted mind and tinted glasses
coats new meanings to all I say
days have gone and years too pass us
but seems like hurts of old are there to stay


the day will come for her to be kind
her child-like anger will ebb and die
truth will fill her then-empty mind
and her heart will mourn me with a sigh