I have so much in my head to unload, a page couldn't take it all.
The anger and hatred I throw at the door,
Is neither seen heard or felt by the one I intend it to be for.
Its kept inside, for where else could it go,
Buried and buried like the ground under snow.

The day is coming I can feel it deep down,
When it will come screaming out,
And I'll regret it straight away.
And yet there is nothing I could do,
For the words would be said.