Drumming on Your thigh

Anger runs in many shades:
pink of lover’s;
red of animosity;
pale green of jealousy gone over, and so on.
Most complex anger is purple, of parents’

that bursts, that whips the child,
planting the blue flowers on the skin.
When it happens often and long, in regular,
it slips into the stream of blood and bone,
twists the child’s mind–
can be a permanent cripple.
Regrets, tears, could not undo it. So,

instead of beating your beloved one,
why not clap your hands,
drum on your thigh? Life’s a short.

©Byung A. Fallgren