Sometimes anger is so strong.
Sometimes hands tremble with regret.
Oftentimes it is, we fear for
what we have and have not done.
What can we do?
Exclamation eases and troubles.
And creeping skin, thought does make.
“Let it out.
Let it out.
You are anew, dear heart.”
I need a tranquility.
I yearn for a quiet self that is not
and reassures,
and carries worry away.
Take my hand, cold and caloused as it is,
and we’ll go for a walk.
And clear our heads
right out.
Agitation of hands. Strength of words. 
before i attempt to explain my liking of this here poem, i will write down my thoughts about it and then read them to you on saturday.
you better remind me to do so. 🙂