Among all crimes you adore Anger is of the first cocksure! It is so vice that it does shower On the weaker whom they abhor. When one encompasses, one bore A deep profound peril in his adore. I do, but hate me why not I deplore Anger – my timidity – shown ashore. The best place for it be boudoir Where no one feels no gore. Anger, for me, just like a claymore Which hurts none but us before We realize or understand or lore.
I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.