My sound reasoning suffers too
Finding no pride for the things I render
And angrily do.
When I make things in anger
My red cheeks show my temper
When I uttered bad things to someone
Eventually, I regret what have I done.
In anger, no good things sprout
Giving not a wise or humble deed
But only wicked things come out
That I should apologize indeed.
Looking back at my past emotions
Good and bad are all recorded
I can't recall a single occasion
When anger is being rewarded.
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