The former me was immature
Was ignorant
Was insecure
Would instigate
And derogate
And hate
And hate
And hate
Irate
At something always
In the way,
Some implacable
Dismay
As sullen as
The color gray
Torrential was
The constant rain
Despondence
I still can’t explain
A rabid beast
I couldn’t tame
In every smiling face
Was pain
Contained within
The joy we feign
And all escape attempts
In vain
Except an early
Ego grave