“The Grudge” by Birdie D. Stringfellow


I sat in my chair
and held a grudge.
I stayed in my chair
and would not budge.

So much in my mind
was going on.
Someone had really
done me wrong.

Hard as I tried,
I could not get up.
It seems that I was
hopelessly stuck.

What anger can do
to one's control
is a pathetic feeling
to have to behold.

I sat in my chair
and held a grudge.
I remained in my chair
and could not budge.