They say that anger is addictive.
Like all addictions
You get a buzz:
A thrill:
“We love to fight,
On a Saturday night.”
To stamp on faces
And kick a load of a*se.
Adrenalin rushes fuelled
By Alcohol and drugs.
We Love to Hate:
Our bosses,
Ex wives and husbands,
All foreigners
And anyone who’s different,
Plus other football teams.
But anger and hate,
They make you ill:
The same as all addictions.
With Cortisol cluttered arteries
And blood clots;
High blood pressure
And stress.
Chill out my friend,
Make Love not War,
That’s my advice to you
(Or anyone else who may
Be listening) .
Be cool
And live the life
Of Peace.
© PB 1\3\2009,
12.30, in Yorkshire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem