I MAY FOREVER-NEVER BE STILL
FOR MY MIND ALWAYS IN SPILL
FOR UNDERNEATH THE CALM CHARADE...
THERE IS MOUNTAIN OF FEAR THAT TAKES OVER THE FAKE FACADE...
EYES BETRAY THE SOUL
STRENGTH TAKES A TOLL
NOT LETTING THE LION INSIDE ME GROWL.
MY MOM ASKS ME...
"WHAT ARE YOU WRINGING YOUR HANDS FOR?'
WELL, ITS HARD TO REASON...
FOR IT IS ALWAYS THE ANXIETY SEASON.
"ITS ALL IN YOUR HEAD" YOU SAY.
WELL, EXPLAIN THAT TO THE PAIN IN MY NERVES AND FURIOUS OF MY KNEES
OR TO THE CREEPS IN MY MIND OR TO THE UNEXPLAINED WEEPS.
OBJECTS MAY SHAKE OR SPILL,
TREMBLING THOUGHTS STREAM BEYOND MY WILL.
MY ARMS ARE NOT MY OWN.
NOR IS THE CONFIDENCE SHOWN.
THE SIMPLE TASKS OF DAILY LIFE....
APPEAR AS A MOUNTAIN STEEP...
AS COLD FINGERS OF A DEAD SOUL GRIPS MY HEART ...
EVERY NIGHT I AM ROBBED OF MY SLEEP....
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Author:
kwrites (
Offline) - Published: August 10th, 2024 15:36
- Comment from author about the poem: I have been an anxious person my entire life. I had to teach myself to live with it and strive despite it.\r\nthe one thing that I want to make people aware of is the fact that anxiety is as physical as it is mental.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Thoughtless, Vanshika_bnsal
Offline)
Comments1
Anxiety a terrible adversary lurks in the dark places of the mind and attacks when least expected. A good description of the beast.
yes, it sure does take home in darkest places of the mind. thank you so much for your insight.
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