Sometimes, I wanna yell

But instead, 

I stay inside my shell. 

As long as I'm well fed,

I can try not to yell

At the people of this world

Who frustrate me

And I wanna throw in the sea. 

I'll give it a whirl,

And try to be kind,

Though I'd much rather prefer

To have everyone wither under my glare. 

It's only fair

When they treat me like an old rotten piece of bologna,

to retaliate.

If only I had eaten,

Then maybe I could control my temper.