Wrath Repressed, or Wrath Expressed?

Wrath is such a strong word.  Wrath is not mere irritation, but rather "violent anger; vehement exasperation; indignation; rage; fury."  I get upset when my children act like there's no sound coming out of my mouth.  I get exasperated (but not vehemently) when my husband lectures me.  I grumble and murmur when someone at work does something to undermine or disrespect me.

But I don't rage.  No wrath.  No violent anger.  No fury.

I've been thinking recently about anger and how we manifest and resolve it.  I repress.   I let it simmer, and let it pass.  For the most part, this works for me.  Or at least it works better than the alternative.  Although I deal with disputes for a living, the truth is that -- in my personal life -- I don't like contention.  I'd rather internalize the injustice, kill the unkindness with kindness, and believe that it will all come out fairly in some future grand reckoning of life.

Pondering on the topic, the words of William Blake's poem "A Poison Tree" came to mind.  Do you know this one?  What do you think, does repressing and holding onto anger yield poisonous fruit?  Perhaps for both the one growing it and the one partaking of it.  I suppose the key is not to let the tree grow in the first place?  Pull it out before it can take root?

A Poison Tree
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I waterd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole,
When the night had veild the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretchd beneath the tree.

~William Blake, 1794