I'm Going To Vent My Anger At The Moon Poem by Mark Heathcote

I'm going to vent my anger at the moon.
And blame my behaviour on a werewolf within
With bloodshot eyes

I'm going to vent my wrath on another victim.
Moving by, who only stopped to smile?
Prove to me they are not wolves in sheep's clothing.

I'm going to vent my annoyance in a vengeful fashion.
In the darkness of the night at midnight
I'm seeking to injure someone who I perceived did me wrong.

In -fact, all they did wrong was to be in my vicinity.
With passion and a fire in their eyes
And an angelic voice amongst the barroom choirs

I'm going to vent my ire.
I might even bite her and bare my teeth like a vampire.
There are moments. I'm not a man but a predator.

I'm going to vent my irritation if she doesn't kiss me
And take me by the hand.
And lead me to hers for a nightcap, that's all I'm saying.