When I am angry I feel like I could spit fire.
Give me a sincere apology that’s all I require.
My inner combustion has many spark flashes.
Extinguish the flames before I burn to ashes.

My expectations are wilting like an empty hose.
You find pleasure in watching falling dominoes.
The solution to the dilemma is incredibly simple…
Less irritating that squeezing a festering pimple.

I’ll take away the value of your controlling power.
Weightless words won’t overshadow like a tower.
Last of all, I’ll be on my contented carefree way…
Far from the wildfires that entrapped yesterday.

Theresa Ann Moore

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anger-48/