Angers heart

So much anger to displace,
Looking back at the empty space,
As dust clings to the bookcase,
Rage builds and destroys all trace,
Like fire’s burning grace,
So destructive in its race,
The heart is anger’s birthplace,
Memories long forgotten but hard to erase,
Some words said were a disgrace,
Trying not to give chase,
Watching the ambers burn in the fireplace,
Stomping your feet heavily up the staircase,
Even harder to forgive and embrace.