Poem by Bera Tremoz
No need to scratch
your left ear with
your right hand
round the back of your head,
do what you gotta do,
worthless to anything and anyone
but Time that sees you drifting
one second after the other,
but Death that awaits you at the end,
that failing and winning
is too part of the distraction,
that depression is confusion unwanted,
that once you breath your last,
you go back to Earth.
And that's that.
Comments about No Stress by Bera Tremoz
Edgar Allan Poe
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