Best Stress Poems
Below are the all-time best Stress poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of stress poems written by PoetrySoup members
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Stress
Poems
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Best Famous Poems
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Stress
Poem
THE LAST DAYS
The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry.
My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions.
Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal?
Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes.
They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.
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Stress
Poem
A Perfect-
A perfect crime.
The paper the victim,
the weapon a pen.
A perfect time.
The thoughts in my head,
a prayer, I say, amen.
A perfect day.
The mood is right,
it is time to begin.
A perfect way.
So I write, Father please,
forgive me for my sin.
A perfect start.
The liquid poison,
slowly kills the page.
A perfect heart.
Slowly breaking,
from all the rage.
A perfect death.
Please go in peace,
Your soul to keep.
A perfect breath.
For it's the last,
please don't weep.
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Stress
Poem
GREAT HEART
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.
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Stress
Poem
He Was Both The Dope And The Hero
Doping confessing by Lance Armstrong
Why tell the truth, when a lie can set you free
The sympathy card, the court jester: with slumbering tears
The windows wipers wipe the milky tears from his eyes.
He compete, and achieves victory through deceit
Does a hero cheat, his way to victory?
A hero was never label a bully throughout history
Spiderman, superman , Robin Hood
heroes never confessed their sins
The incredible hulk did a powerful transformation
Restoring international credibility in prime time;
Time after time
A myth is a myth even in the past, present and future.
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Stress
Poem
Dementia
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died,
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping,
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain,
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best,
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia
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Stress
Poem
The Wasteland -Part 1-
How can one express the baffling depths of obscurity?
How can one behold to open the shafts of the mind?
I have never been able to solve the mystery—
Of myself. . .
I wish at times that my life was no more
That I could live as another and finally see things right
But I am always stuck in this darkness
And I cannot see this mind in light
There are beasts. . .demons prowling through the wasteland
Searching for any remaining life
And if they are ever found—
They are doomed and consumed
Fear is their downfall and they never fail to smell it
Their ashes remain, dancing with the imaginary breeze
It is silent here—there are no answers
I wish there were answers. . .
But maybe there was never a reason
No answers. . .
Talons extend and clench around my heart
They will never seek me out—they left me here
It is like they knew…I had no reason—that was the answer
I feel the pulse of my dangling life
Alone in the dark, whimpering like a child
I have scared myself, becoming this dragon-daggered youth
No balm in Gilead!
No eyes to see
All I know will never be free
I don’t need anyone!
You are a disgrace—scum of the waste!
You have everything, you ungrateful little nothing
You are a joke. . .
So swallow it all up like the pushover you are
Stand your lowest and trudge right through
No questions. No answers. Just . You.
Or just lie back down into the mush of disease
It has already infected you to the core
Accept who you are, you ugly pestilence!
I hate you
Who are you to be glorified?
Dream snatcher. . .murderer of all things bright
Saturated in what you call light
I see right through—even as the reflections shatter
All of the dead kept you alive—they all matter…
But alive you are the worst there is
False savior—edited attention whore
I never want to see your face again
See, that’s why I hide. . .
Desperation. . .desperation. . .
I sob and cry kneeling in defeat
For once I am right. . .I am right
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Stress
Poem
Dear my heart
Where is your home, my heart?
Why are you silent?
We went through many things.
We were living life.
We lost the last that we have gotten
But still there is no end.
You are confused, my heart.
I feel it.
There are so many roads which
Lie before but only God
Does know which one will lead to
Paradise, and which one straight to hell.
Where is your home, my heart?
I’d love to know where to go.
Who is for us?
Who will protect us?
Who will help to find the way?
We forgave so many people, heart.
So many things we left undone.
We split into the pieces our vision.
The life that is unclear we gave up.
You are not broken, heart.
You are not tired.
I feel you beat still in my chest
But why all the time are you so silent?
Why are you so afraid?
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Stress
Poem
Still In Progress
How can I be selfless without being used?
How can I be demanding without being so rude?
How can I open up without closing back down?
How can I speak if you don't hear a sound?
How can I trust without being betrayed?
Yet how could I leave... even after you stayed?
But how can you love me when I won't let you in?
So many questions.... where do I begin?
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Memories now blurred, flying through my mind……
Now, I’m trying to repress the days of being youthful and blind.
Every morning I pull on my armor, right from within,
Preparing for a war, that I intend, to win.
If my heart is my comrade and my mind is the enemy,
Then in the midst of this battlefield,
Life is the remedy…
---
Trying to stay sane, knowing that although this is temporary, nothing is vain…
Learning that there is always a purpose and people will try to corrupt us, and bring you great shame…
Being told that ‘Victory isn't given to he who starts the race the strongest, but he who endures until the end.’
Trying to suspend you from learning to depend... on yourself,
instead making you depend on the wealth,
Of someone who doesn't even know who he is,
while you’re grasping the stealth of your true identity, in your right hand, in your heart, the knowledge…
Never been withheld
…
..
.
Feeling the world come crashing down on you, compacting into a mist of air so cool,
The breeze passing right through, right into the depths of your pores, to ensue,
The burning and broken and fragile pieces of the inhabitants of the earth from your birth til' now..
Physically becoming everything that you breathe, touch, conceive, munch, perceive, every aroma...
And every great or insignificant trauma, reflecting off your skin oh so temporarily, the mark so paper thin…
Physically, THAT is what you are…
Because we only see the physical, right?
Yet, behind every movie is there not a director… a cast?
And behind every painting is there not an artist, combining colors and lines so vast?
And behind every child is there not a journey, a past?
...
That you did not walk, yet you know that it’s there, not by sight, scent, taste, touch, or hearing... But something inside you, that says it makes sense, KNOWS that all of that is there,
KNOWING
...
..
.
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Stress
Poem
Restoration
Peace to all of the inhabitants within and without the universe
Respect to all existence both stagnant and dynamic
No desire to understand only to observe and appreciate
Those who’ve sought understanding have greatly misunderstood
They intend to change (upgrade) and will inevitably spike altercation
Disrupting and forever corrupting universal equilibrium
Effort to become God the creator and healer of all is the cause of disruption
Persevering disabling efforts to be God with the determination of correction is the cause of infinite corruption – the effect of cyclical disruption
“____ heals all wounds”
No human is able to fix
We are only able to use
An attempt to restore is abuse
“____ heals all wounds”
Rest
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Stress
Poem
Amidst the stress and strains of life
Amidst the stress and strains of life rejoice
Don't fold now, you still can play the hand
Forget old rules, make a new paradigm for choice
The brail and vang is in your will's command
In your heart, just know your cause with God is right
The stakes for all is everything you are
Where your hands toil, work with all your might
And point the stern towards your homing star
Do not quit your dreams now, do not complain or cry
Stand boldly at the bow and keel against the wind
What matters if in the great struggle we die
We could not live forever anyhow, and still we win
For we have opened a path unopened before, and shew
Men how, for the world will after us in glory
But not behind the whimpering soul will any pursue
The grimacing shame of a coward's history.
Know whose you are, and who you are reclaim
For God made you in his image, and set your heart
To have dominion here, to replenish in the flame
Subdue the earth, now with honor do your part!
Tell winds and waves be still, tell the fire break
You have God's glory to your name, stand and fight
Do not quiver, let not the sun-centered rod shake
Day comes the morning after the darkest night.
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