Midnight Mayhem

Scurrying about,

In the midnight hours,

Like a little mouse,

Searching for a piece of cheese;

But you are up to much more,

As those wild emotions

Race through your mind,

And those dips of depression,

Fuel the fire of sadness and anger,

You break out the vacuum cleaner,

And do a few loads of laundry.

Good channeling for my sake,

Better than the belt,

Or a wicked rage,

Accompanied by fists

And insults galore,

Not constructive criticism,

But damning put-downs

Reserved for closed doors.