As a girl she heard the message that her anger was bad
To suppress it, not express it was the training that she had
She’d sense it bubble up, but the thing was hard to name
And soon after was a feeling that she carried as shame
She’d go back through the story, to think through what she’d done
To then apologise, absorb the blame and comfort everyone
Keeping “peace” was most important, she mustn’t rock the boat
Saying less or just agreeing was the way to keep afloat
But in time she came to see that this uncomfortable sensation
Was a valid indicator of a boundary violation
Of when her values had been shaken and she didn’t need to hide
As when suppression’s a control tool then her anger’s justified
Anger as a warning light that points towards the truth
Anger as curiosity, an investigative sleuth
Anger that’s proportionate to the harm being done
Anger about injustice, not egos lost or won
She seeks to hone its power for new hope, imagination
A yearning for new order, a collective invitation
To sit with its discomfort and be guided to its cause
To let it act as fuel for change, stir courage on its course.
- Ange Disbury © 2022 -
