What are we Angered By?

What are we angered by?

It seems to me,

an angry guy,

that cameras lie,

in times we die,

while pullin dimes,

from sullen eyes,

and swollen chimes,

of darkest rhymes,

in darkest times,

and angered lies,

and hangman ties,

witness tried,

no one kind,

biggoted mind-

now pause-

and take away,

our deadly frames,

from hallowed dames,

and freckled names,

singers tame,

and linger lame,

deaf and mute.

Think about it,

Our singers sing,

and rappers rap,

about many things,

endlessly,

but our thinkers think,

and no one learns,

our pipers pipe,

and no one sings,

it seems to me,

speaking oh so humbly,

that the singer who sings,

and the rapper who raps,

knows no thing,

as they go,

endlessly,

down rabbit holes,

with their rabid holes-

so now then.

What are we angered by?

Endless rhymes,

in times we die,

from toothless swine,

angered by,

senseless crimes,

and glossy eyes,

wanting our dimes.