When the weak are oppressed,
My choleric nature rises,
To move others to action or right the wrong.
...
When I am in my safe place,
And familiarity quiets anxiety,
My free spirit flows,
And I become Sanguine the Penguin.
...
When anger mounts,
Or tired frustration appears,
I become a willing support,
A phlegmatic of sorts.
...
When I am rejected,
Or reality hits hard,
I feel beauty through the eyes
Of a melancholy.
...
I knew this when I was young,
What once was lost is found again.
...
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD
© July 2015
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