Ode Stress Poems | Ode Poems About Stress
These Ode Stress poems are examples of Ode poems about Stress. These are the best examples of Ode Stress poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
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It takes a man with fiery guts
To stand the heat of the spiteful lots
Of little greats still untamed
And future stars still unnamed.
The sweat never ceased to fall
And the stress really took a toll
But success came out after all
Making the stress worthy of all.
Though no thanks be said or showed
And no hats be tipped or bowed
Always remember you are beloved
By those hearts you ploughed and sowed.
Copyright © israel eziedo | Year Posted 2010
Set me free from the bondage you have
You wrapped me in and never let me out
Contagious disease swallowing me whole
To your expense I am not adjourn
Carry me over to where you rest
I beg you please to set me free
Without much further ado
Freedom I pray to bestow upon my feet.
Long days are coming
Seasons are fast approaching
I have quit to see the beauty of thee
Coz your bondages hid my eyes to peek
Tormented soul of thine
To your wilderness of foreign land
I have come to seek emancipation
Yet you moved it to a capital N-O
Why does your wings cover me
To the light of tomorrow that the world brings in
Are you jealous of it
Or you just want me be swallowed by your melancholic sea.
Free me I say
Free me I pray
Free me from your total darkness
Free me from the growling tears of stress.
Copyright © hemarcs Osoteo | Year Posted 2016
You better be a little rich,
If you choose to make a pitch.
By bus or car you make the trip,
You've trained yourself just not to slip.
The agents sit; a motley crew,
A few may even look at you.
To them it's just the same old hat,
To find some meat stuck in the fat.
The writer wonders what they think,
Is he good or does he stink?
Most go home with little done,
Was this pitch just done for fun?
Copyright © Gary Kraidman | Year Posted 2013
ODE TO MY PIPE
Whomsoever doth smoke this pipe,
Should be prepared for an easier life,
For the stress and strain of the troubled soul
Are as but vapour in its bowl.
When filled to brim with fragrant stuff
Then tamped well down, and lighted up,
The essence from its mouth will flow
To ease your path where ere you go,
For the guardians wrapped about its stem,
Are the nemesis of weaker men,
And all your pain shall be but sod
Beneath the feet of your chosen God.
Copyright © simon cooper | Year Posted 2016