When The Pressure Is On Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Skipping over a nipping of it,
And...
That budding will give you the fits,
And...
Harder it will get to pick,
Without getting a prick...
From its existence.

When a weed seen begins to grow,
With a spreading that shows exposure...
A detriment no one intended,
Steams temperments to make them livid.
And flowers that could have bloomed...
Appearing less vivid.

When the pressure is on,
Many wait too late.
When the pressure is on,
Many shake behind gates...
Awaiting to escape their fear of fates.

When a weed seen begins to grow,
With a spreading that shows exposure...
A detriment no one intended,
Steams temperments to make them livid.
And flowers that could have bloomed...
Appearing less vivid.

Skipping over a nipping of it,
And...
That budding will give you the fits,
And...
Harder it will get to pick,
Without getting a prick...
From its existence.
Without persistence,
To make a difference.
And...
Done nonstop!

When a weed seen begins to grow,
With a spreading that shows exposure...
A detriment no one intended,
Steams temperments to make them livid.
And flowers that could have bloomed...
Appearing less vivid.
And...
Harder it will get to pick,
Without getting a prick...
From its existence.
Without persistence,
To make a difference.
And...
Done nonstop!
To be...
Done nonstop!
And...
Done nonstop!
To be...
Done nonstop!