Two poems in an hour

Absurd, irrational anger knows no face
At which to scream, to hurl, to disgrace;
And in the waking of abrupt alarm,
This rage grows, unfettered, to harm.

But soft! This savage beast needs to be tamed
To avert destruction of innocuous objects unnamed
And return to a state of still waters, tranquil,
In appearance at least (there's not near enough goodwill).

Back to its cage, this emotion is repressed.
The snarls are quieted from this unwanted guest
And all that remains is an emptiness within:
A drained husk flashing a false grin.

---

The seconds tick by, and you think I don't know
That green is grass and white is snow?
That every minute gone can't be replaced?
That time is a treasure and waste a disgrace?

Why must you make it harder than it already is?
I know my faults well; shall I enumerate a list?
This isn't a problem that can be solved by reason;
I've tried that (to my never-ending frustration).

The guilt eats at me every day,
Every moment, in every way.
Self-pity? A bit, but not enough to rate;
It's the self-hatred that suffocates.