Bottled rage, too long held;
the bottle opened after many years
of sitting unseen on an otherwise empty shelf.
God helped me find it, and open it, I think,
only to leave me with carbonation on my hands
when the bottle exploded its volatile contents,
leaving a mess long dreaded,
and no better for years of preparation.
Alone on the shelf the bottle again sits;
slightly drained and impotent now,
the fizz long since dissipated.
I sat and watched it go flat...
instead of harnessing that delicious energy
by using it in a sweet concoction of i-scream
and bittersweet cherries.
I returned it to the shelf and watched it
fizzle and die.
useless once more.