Daily Poetry by Jess Knight

My shrink implored me to write a poem about it.
No paper or pen.
A lot of screaming and clenching of fists.
Stretching out the fingers before they started cramping.
Formed fists once again.
Resumed the screaming and the yelling,
at the top of my lungs.
Words not poetic, shouted oh so loud.
‘Asshole’ and ‘Dick rag.’
No paper or pen.
It is embedded in my heart.
My shrink implored me to write a poem about it.