0340

pressures build under the constant load,
as its boiling point is ready to explode,
fingernails scratch into the wood of the bench,
as the sweat pours to the shirt starting to drench,
eyebrows push the eyeballs to almost bust,
as the mouth has a shape of utter disgust,
hair spikes up from strain in the skin,
each word said wears the patience more thin,
the stolen idea was presented to the world,
images of a gripped neck as the fingers curled,
hatred consumes all thoughts with no coming back,
with this taken as a personal hurting attack,
when no question needs to be asked at all,
only revenge left as that bitch will fall.