The anger of a gentle man

He speaks of calmness, of reflective,
To meditate, is what he says.
Soft spoken, with hope for the just,
He is willing to sacrifice for all.
But he has his own limits,
Regardless of whatever he do.
The little pink flower may just have bloomed,
But watch out! For it is doomed.
The sky darkens and he spits his words,
Speaking of eternity and gore.
He shadows the One back home,
And seeks his opinion.
He picks the nay flower,
And jumbles it in his pocket.
For that is the anger of a gentle man.

Today was a really heartening day. I received my E. Maths paper and out of 40, I've only received 30, which was really disappointing. My Maths teacher even asked me what happened. Then we had Physics O level SPA, of which I didn't really study that topic and I lost one mark because I didn't know what to do and I asked my teacher how to do it. I really am so envious of Janice, because she didn't lose any of her marks. What's more, I labelled my ray drawing wrongly. There goes my full marks.