From Bottled Up Rage
Daily app pair rent
     revelation, observation, and
     intimation invariably concludes,
     this aging baby
     boomer (albeit youthful)
     inescapably lock up
     (until death me part)
     inside complex edifice

     re: guarding self made trap
rocketing into orbitz
     of mine twilight years thrusts,
     upon this pop (sic) crack
     **** forcibly to snap
attention back into
     the present, yet unable
     to shake off feeling dismayed,

     viz hit ting head
     with bleak recap
cha regular basis finds me
     reassessing, reliving,
     and reviewing
psychologically pock
     marked scarred
     psyche indelibly mapped

e'er since this narrator hapt
     tubby a little boy at
     tender preschool age
his esprit de corp
     joie de vivre analogous
     to a rat locked
     in an undersize invisible cage
devoid of emotional, physical,

     and spiritual equipage
with 20/20 hindsight, I attest,
     he seemed bereft
     of empathy gauge
as attested by donning
     slovenly swiftly tailored,
     unkempt harried styled
     appearance, a foiled image

that any stranger, family
     member, or classmate
     could discern, sans
     intuitive knowledge
     Hawaii didst poorly manage
thyself and island
     did self smoldering
     wool worth deadly sabotage!