Sorrow's Free Will Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Our world revolves as people evolve mentally and physically,
inept at times, unable to focus on the task at hand.

Stress has entered their little realm, throwing everything
off, splitting them from the human race for a while.

Temporarily attempting to wallow through problems and or
sorrow, catapulting under intense inner pressure, afraid to
share with another what is happening.

Needing a somewhat reluctant release while at the same time
resisting the fact of it.

Not wishing to seem like a cry baby to the world, holding
inside, tons of tears wishing not to be spared, but spread
about, enabling inner potential to grow beyond the stresses
of everyday life.

Withering instead, in the vacant lot of lonesome sorrow,
buried under the pressures of your own free will.