I compensate for worry with more stress
My mind's not right unless it's in distress
Resulting in a mix of stressful days
All helping to reflect my ageing ways
I've struggled with this trait since I was young
Unable to restrict it, life goes on
And tempting as it is to just give in
I really don't want all this grief to win
There's not a day goes by that I don't think
That it will all end faster than a blink
And though the negativity's extreme
The positives are only in my dreams
Although I might not show it, I'm a wreck
Enveloped from my toes up to my neck
With things that may not sound like that much pain
but rattle around inside my ageing brain
I sit alone on days where stress begins
Carrying all the worry of my sins
One day there will be nothing left of me
Except the results of self inflicted misery
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem