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Rage is a Lake at Sunrise
Rage is a lake at sunrise
The Burning ball of fire
That casts it’s crimson color
Across the still water
Compares to the rage
That boils inside of me.
As the sun rises,
Its rays bleed further
Onto the lake
Warping in its wake.
The waves twist and turn,
Disrupting the serene peacefulness
And mixing the sun’s golden colors
That sits upon the lakewater,
Just like the rage inside of me.
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i drew two pieces of paper out of buckets to make a metaphor (Rage is a lake at sunrise) and wrote a poem about it