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Prose Poetry Stress Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Stress

These Prose Poetry Stress poems are examples of Prose Poetry poems about Stress. These are the best examples of Prose Poetry Stress poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

Drowning

Gasping for air. . . you strain your neck; stretching..you look around, checking.
Struggling to keep the pace. . . you're movements, fluctuating; you panic, you try floating.
Screaming for help. . .  no one is around, you wish for a miracle; you're wheezing, yelp not helping.
Giving, no one is reaching. . . the waves starting to bring you down; you fight, your Will diminishing.
Vanishing. . . your light dimming; They look from afar, will they notice you're drowning?


Details | Prose Poetry | |

DAMAGED MY TRUE LOVE

written 17th Sept 2013



When it comes to love, I AM poisonous
 don't let me curse another, leave me loveless

For the first time in my life, I felt your pain and cried for your heart
 my heart finally hurts, knowing I passed this pain from the start

Please find help to set your heart free
 trust me, it's not a life you recover from easily 

Damaged goods I told you, unrepairable
 but some how, you managed the impossible

Unlovable for my entire life
 yet you had no problem, getting me to become your wife

Yes, it's been more than both of us should have ever had to bear
 at this moment, every cell in my body is overwhelmed, so I really do care

Please don't enter my life's pain and despair  
 you don't deserve it, you are so patient and filled with such love

I'm sorry I let myself fall in love knowing it would poison you
 soul mates forever and eternity, my love belongs only to you...




Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Hope You Know I'll Always Love You

I am what you call a hopeless 
romantic,
But im also a lost lovers cause, my 
heart belongs to another
Yet in my head a love triangle starts 
to form, the girl I love doesn’t love 
me
She holds the heart to another and 
mine caged to the floor,
She isn’t afraid to fight for what she 
wants, not even when it comes to 
leaving another man torn
Trust me she’s happy, as that boy 
holds her heart ever so close
Seeing what I shouldn’t I smile as I 
wear my blind fold,
Blind to everything around, lifeless 
staring into air
My train of thought running so fast, 
the second I stop you’ll hear a crash
Derailing my hope, for ever finding a 
love so pure & rare
Wishing I could hold the hand of the 
lover who stole my flame,
Wish I could change the last days in 
which we parted ways,
Realizing now that we can never be 
the same
Finally saying it out loud as tears run 
down my face
You stole my happiness, as I walked 
away that day
But it’s because as of what you said 
I guessed I changed,
Now every relationship has just be 
the same,
No one can seem to bring back that 
flame,
Because a love likes ours comes 
once in a lifetime
Well at least it does to me,
But I mean you’re happy with who 
your with 
I mean I only wrote this as I heard 
exchanging “I love you” flow from 
each of your lips.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Why So Sad

Why So Sad?

Why do you look lonely, 
Bereft and so, so sad?
Has someone been quite nasty? 
Have you been really bad?

What lies beyond your haunted eyes,
Your melancholy stare?
Do you want to tell me what it is?
Do you want to take me there?

Your doleful gaze cements your face,
Your shoulders hanging low.
Do you want to tell me what it is?
Or would you prefer that I go?

I stand transfixed, absorbing your pain,
My breath is quick and light.
Do you want to tell me what it is?
What causes your terrible plight?

What demons grasp your very soul?
Why do they steal your smile?
Do you want to tell me what it is?
This cruel and evil bile.

Can you see through your vacant gaze?
Do you know that I am here?
Do you want to tell me what it is?
And explain what monsters are near?

What has sucked the life from you?
Who have you become?
Do you want to tell me what it is?
What nefarious deed has been done?





Details | Prose Poetry | |

lost trust

You don't think am trust worth
Since someone jealousy to told you a lie
So that we separated and they should have a chance
I didn't do wrong at all people are just jealousy

You might loose trust in me
But for me I know I still trust you
Don't ever listen to people who tell a lie
The job is to just destroy our engagement

You think I cheating on you
But I didn't instead I loved you
Even my heart still claim you
Although you don't want to talk to me
At least try to remember me
Since its all about you and me
Although someone jealousy make you not believe in me
I wont stop until you live with me
And be forever with me


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A light in the dark

You are a light in the dark

the shadows follow but Your

love stands inside to keep me holding

Your hand so wide.



You are a light in the dark

it's scary out here in the

deep wide world that's not my home,

but Your love holds onto my heart

deep inside we never depart.


Your a light in the dark

when I feel so alone

You take hold of the inner parts

deep in my soul.


Oh Lord, how I long to be home,

YOUR my true light in the dark.



Written By:©Betty Bolden


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Crossing Through The Red Sea Undivided

The calm and quiet serenity embracing a string of fine buildings and a hypocritical weather which seems as if a quarrel manifested between the day and the night say it all as we enjoy the romantic stroll. Our aim is highly achieved if this was official, we would demand a certificate but the environment, our smiles, our love and our world are more than enough reward as we warm our souls and take the slow, gentle pace. the red flag was totally absent as we noticed many of them with tails unwag by-passing one, not knowing it is the scumbag began its vile its voice and energy much more than three angry wives on top of their nag. A drastic lag in our steps of royalty as my darling was taken over with gags. Then comes the full rage, attacks and great disdain to us. They were initially five; but now twelve. Creating a strategy by walking zigzag served fruitless and more like a drag as the voices of hell get even closer. making my wife scared as never before. Just one attack , can attract a deadly feast. Turning us into rags tearing us snag after snag and separating our flesh from body like a slag. That one bite, is now seconds closer with the lead intimidator showing its brag but 'the protector' being my tag; I turned swiftly and immediately going downwards and acting to take a weapon. Then the dozen of cowards impersonated Usain Bolt. 'That's my swag!" was the showing but in reality, I embraced my love passionately, thanking God for such a miracle with a skipping heart and a trembling body.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I am SHE

I am 'SHE'. 
The form of Goddess 'Durga' & 'Laxmi', 
I used to be. 

But where the hell I'm today? 
Where in the search of 
my own identity, 
I have to pay. 
In this patriarchy, 
my soul has been killed 
& body has been groped. 
Each & every step outside 
has become exploit for me. 
Eyes scanning my body, 
& indecent remarks for me 
everywhere,I use to hear and see. 

I am languishing here, 
living with low spirits 
& fed up of my bug-bear. 
Of being raped & abducted, 
I always have the fear. 
I'm anguished in this milieu, 
sighing and sheding tears 
in the corner of my room. 
My regular nightmarish experiences 
made me to cry over my doom. 

More than chilly & pepper sprays, 
propriety in society will help me. 
And I'm waiting for 
that pleasant day when 
safety will go hand in hand with 'SHE'..   


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Garden Club Ruse Finality part 2

The years passed, things never did get better..
Her Garden Club was the only thing that held her together
The mental abuse had taken it’s toll...
As far as he was concerned he owned her soul..
She now felt she had no recourse..
And decided she had to find a source..
To end this life as she knew it..
And move on without the commitment...
It was a Friday one cold winter day..
He told her he was going to Vegas to play..
But we have no money, you said yesterday..
No, YOU !  have no money he said and...
I wish you were dead...
He had bragged for years, this day would come
When he would choose another one..
But before I leave...he had a request..
Make me my favorite dinner...for me and a guest
She is younger than you and oh what a catch..
So she went to the freezer to find and fetch..
A suitable roast for he and his guest...
She found just the right thing for his favorite meal..
A large leg of lamb, or was it Veal ?
It was heavy, about twenty pounds she thought...
What was I thinking when this was bought ?
Back in the kitchen, he was still raving...
About how useless this marriage was of saving...
I really don’t care what happens to you...
But I’ll see you get nothing, not even a shoe...
With that she swung the 20 pound roast...
It smashed in his skull, he was dead right away...
Oh my, she said, what a way to start the day...
She grabbed the roast and put it in a pan...
And began to figure out a plan... of what to do with this man...
She thought for a moment and remembered the strife..
That went with her ordering that “ Ginzu “ knife...
It was a TV offer she couldn’t pass up, never needed sharpening....
 and cut thru bone..order one now and get one free..
It was the first and last time she used the credit card and that was in 1963.
The knife worked well, she thought , now that was a bargain
Placed the parts in a bag and headed for the garden...
Body parts were buried in the dirt..
And she smiled upon the burning of her shirt..
She took the roast to her Garden Club meeting..
It was a special event and guess who was speaking ?
The Chief of Police and his subject was on spousal beating..
And by the way he said he would like the recipe for his wife..
The weeks went by, she was happy everyday...
 And then it happened, is was the first of May..
 The big event she had waited for all year..
 Her entry of the “ *Amorphophallus Titanum “...
 Oh how proud she was...when awarded top prize..
 A very rare plant, said the Judge...and has a very weird odor..
And it’s not very pleasant...as a matter of fact
 It smells like rotting meat , said another, sorta sour.
Which is why said the Judge..it’s commonly called the ...* Corpse Flower..
                                                                                          

 * Native to the rainforest, flowers are rare and if it blooms,
Is one of approximately 140 recorded in history...
Most recently on display in New York City in 2012...


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sailor and I

Spiraling sensations of heightened instability cascade through an unsuspecting conscience, a chaotic whirlpool engulfs the psyche in seas of self inflicted torment and despair, illogically intertwined with fleeting moments of delusions, escape and grandeur, torn between everything that is and is not, what once was, what never was, what once was elsewhere, and what lies in the distance unknown. 

Desires to vacate this epoch of mundane existence without immediate destination permeate through every pore, confined by the all encompassing wet suit of societal boundaries, perilously trapped, craving comforts of previous experience like a stranded sailor anxiously await sight of land, and the utopian vision an uncertain future, devoid of realistic premise.

Disparate from islands and coastlines imprinted upon atlas, the past is a destination left unvisited save for flickering images, memories sewn into the fabric of the psyche. The vessel of the mind gives way to leaks, the images trickle into the recesses of one's inner thoughts, a barely perceptible drip, progressing into an uncontrollable flood of psychosis, the struggling vessel begins to capsize, obsession establishes itself as the dominant state of mind. 

One‘s future, an unwritten infinite epilogue to the present, reminiscent of the empty pages in a captain's log documenting this doomed voyage, once expected to be filled with tales of riches and feats of exploration but now submerged in a cold and murky existence awaiting to be pulled from the abyss. 

Expectations and desires succumb to the realities of circumstance as the mind concedes certain defeat, a casualty of pre entitlement and wishful thinking, a drowning sailor whose final thoughts establish the realization that the ambitions of the soul often exceed the limitations of the body.


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HEALTLH CALL FOR ALL

its not just for 
so stay alerk
and it works
no doudt
it reaches
 out
when its fixs 
get it quick
just  call
its
HEALTH CARE FOR ALL


Details | Prose Poetry | |

No way out

We all know someone who has been depressed before.
We might have experienced depression ourselves. Being stressed out has become a integral part of life for many. Possibly we are withdrawn and feeling numb inside. Stress can be a result of many everyday occurrences. Financial problems, getting in debt or overextended, is a stressor most of us have shared with millions. The loss of a loved one, a marriage or breakup is a common stressor. A change in circumstances, an eviction notice or your home being foreclosed upon, car repossessed and homelessness have become commonplace as well. Going through bankruptcy, a pay cut, layoff at work or having to suspend further education due to lack of funds has touched many lives. These stressors are not rare but as a community we see them happening daily. Society as a whole expects us to just move on and deal with these ups and downs with little or no effect on our mental and physical well being. I specifically use these terms, because often this toll greatly effects the individual and then is ignored. As we take our health for granted and are ashamed of the stigma attached to any kind of mental health issue, we overlook the consequences of everyday stress.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

MY BODY

My body, 
	ripe for the taking,
	filled with shames voice.
Plunged into the fiery depths of self mutilation.
My sense of self lashes out, and when threatened, 
	curls inwards to my very core.
The stress creeps upwards,
	as if failing to reach the freedom of a hill top
	filled with weeping willows,
	that sway with the loaded failures of my past.
Disintegration comes when I buckle under
	the stress of reliving these failures.
My shoulders pull back and settle into my body
	opening up vessels of hope.
I take one step at a time 
	as if walking the line of steadiness.