Best Stress Poems | Poetry
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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New Stress Poems
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by Ibeh, Edward
Suppress Servile Stress
by sensele, john
How To Address Stress
by Horn, James
by Mat, Ewa
Fancy Stress - Collaboration with the Awesome Jan Allison
by Parmenter, Nina
FANCY STRESS - COLLABORATION WITH THE AMAZING NINA PARMENTER
by ALLISON, JAN
by Johnson, Audley
le stress dans l'education
by CollinsII, Leo
le stress dans l'education
by CollinsII, Leo
by Mankasingh, Mintra
View all new Stress Poems
The Best Stress Poems
Anxiety (The Worst Noose In Town)
-- like flooding waters, creeping in
I count 30, seconds, holding my breath again
Drowning in agitation, overwhelmed by fear
I try to hide the pressure in hopes I don't pass out
My pores are soaked, from all the perspiration
I feel the pins and needles pushing in
My skin is ruined from all the peeling
At this point, I can't seem to win
Washed out by dead hope and desire
My soul is lost searching for a shore
leashing, grasping and ripping the chest wide
I count 40, seconds, once nausea can't be blocked
Everything about this moment is driving me mad,
I need to escape, however, my knees are too weak
I tremble while losing control to the emotional distress
My knuckles are pale, detached from reality,
wounds forced with further embarrassment.
Guaranteed failure surrounds my day
Numbness strikes my very essence - I can't move!
Lost in a room,
Therapy - even so I feel singled out
HAPPY VALENTINES (it can get the best of us)
---------------------------- love Linda
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016
I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here
I can’t get back in control of my emotions
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy
I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help
Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013
Off goes the alarm, I continue to sleep
I wake up flabbergasted, my brain takes a leap
The milk boils over, I run amok in vain
The newspaper is wet! Thanks to morning rain!
The headlines read in bold, 'Another gang rape'
There's no time to think, as long as I am safe.
Loads of pending files; deadlines stare at me
Clinic is worse than home, there's no time to pee!
The boss calls for me, when I am not in seat
And when she sees me, she finds me sipping tea!
I see a battered girl, 'Help me Doc' she pleads
No time to think, and luckily not my kids.
I drive on pothole roads and find the tire flat
Me and my friend Jack, wear the mechanic hat
I race against time, and lo! A traffic jam
Accident on the street, I do feel alarmed!
I see splattered blood; a man fallen from bike;
But, No time to think, bikes I never like!
Homework and assignments, craft and revision
I spend some time with kids, enjoy progression
No time to clip nails, no time for hobby; game
A spat with my hubby, puts my eyes to shame
I hear my maid complain; beaten- black and blue
But, no time to think, it's never me, but you!
Weeks are cramped with work, with so much stress to cope
Weekends come and go, with nothing much to hope
My life is only me, myself; family;
No time for others, and that's the irony!
Will I wake up to, the call of human kind
No time to think, even as life set to wind.....
Off goes the alarm, I continue to sleep.....
Copyright © Uma Kulkarni | Year Posted 2017
So bittersweet is this creative art
of writing thoughts through words of poetry.
So many say how peaceful is my heart
that it can shape a verse that's part of me.
They never see the bitter times of stress
my mind goes through for every perfect word:
the hunting down of them to bring success,
so thoughts within my heart can then be heard.
But when I reach the mountaintop, complete
a gem that tells my mind it met the goal,
the stress dissolves into a joy so sweet,
and peace envelopes me, my heart and soul.
Sandra M. Haight
Sponsor: Kevin Shaw
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016
Lovely foam bath and lots of bubbles
Who knew it would lead to trouble
A luxury for wounded muscles and joints, with quality
An oasis of calm and peace became a comedy
A glass of wine, rose petals and candles
Oh so perfect, naked just wearing my bathing sandals
In five minutes everything was turned into a real mess
My three dogs had a bubble party, all I got was stress
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2017
You want the truth
There are people out there
That just want to take away your youth
There is nothing we gain
But the fact
We carry around a lot of pain
I beg god please
As I grab the rope
Looking for relief
There is no hope
They say they know the road is long
But you'll turn out to be so strong
I will not fail
I know there will be grief
As my face turns pale
I had no where to go
And no one to call
So I kicked the chair
And let my body fall
Copyright © tia himes | Year Posted 2017
Wondering if you see the good in me?
its there but do you expect much more?
Ah tell me would you then want to be free?
Those expectations have yes killed before
You see in this life none can be that good
As in life we learn from each mistake
Ah to be that good I wish I could
As I am true, I've never been fake
Are our expectations set way to high?
What if its i who cannot measure up?
Sometimes I sit as I wonder and sigh
Does self doubt overflow my own cup?
What if I'm not as good as you think?
Would my tears then become my own ink?
Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2018
It is a fact that before I wrote True Colours,
I was stuck in a world of black and white bipolar,
encaged in my seat on a non stop rollercoaster,
eating one meal a day cooking bread in a toaster.
Do you know if from here I should.....
Nope wait, if it was you then would....
No I hesitate, before I wasn't sure I could
write so shall I carry on with doubt I'm good.
Should I continue to write?
Stick at it and improve I could?
Would I get better each night?
It's tricky to know if I'm good.
I wish for a talent but it's not apparent,
it's something I want but maybe I haven't.
I'm a thoughtful fighter
with a physical dominance,
who puts pen to paper
with a mental confidence.
The anxiety causes stress
and that makes me a messy mess too,
nonetheless I guess all I can do,
is pursue hopelessness whilst I continue
to harness this writing skill and improve,
while I remain myself and stay true,
or I could give up what do I choose?
It's amazing how the praise can make me lazy,
and all because the bar was raised.
To think that that's where it remains is crazy,
without the application my skill decayed.
Living off past glories and falsely self assured,
hides the fact the present leaves them bored.
The reward is forgotten without consistency
and the reputation plummets into history.
You need to bounce from test to test like a ball,
contest with the very best and prove you're no fool,
then you must not allow the standards to fall,
you must allow a new hunger to be installed.
I continuously doubt what I am all about,
I'm a drought that sprouts limited amounts,
it's the same bounce of the ball in all my bouts,
my mouth shouts in repetition and I've lost count.
I continuously doubt what I'm all about,
I'm constantly worried and living in doubt,
I'm in a black hole will I ever get out,
I continuously doubt so that's what I'm about.
Why would I refuse to continue after I didn't refuse to begin.
Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018
The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes. Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.
‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’
Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013
In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.
The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...
Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...
Copyright © Ruben Alejandro Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013
(please read "Her Masterpiece Is Her Story" before reading the second part. It'll make more sense and probably be more enjoyable!)
The girl who has beautiful scars,
And the boy with marks of strength,
Are now separated by distance,
And that is causing some teenage angst.
The girl wonders how the boy is doing.
Her paintbrush calls her name.
The two can't talk right now,
And she feels she's to blame.
The girl's best friend is lonely,
And she isn't much better.
The only way honesty is revealed,
is through a heart felt letter.
Her scars are fading away,
Everyone knows her secret, so she can't add to the art.
She's wishing she could draw more cuts,
At night the voices in her mind take over her heart.
Her masterpiece is disappearing,
Her artwork is going away.
"What caused you to do this!??!" her family asks.
"I...I hate myself." is all she can say.
She's trying to be okay,
If not for herself then for her friends,
If there's one thing she can't take,
It's their fatal ends.
But she doesn't know how the boy is,
She doesn't know his feeling,
Her mind is going crazy,
Her sanity is reeling.
Since she doesn't know how the boy is doing,
Her anxious mind is filled with worry,
Her demons have told her something.
They're telling her the worst horror story.
Her masterpiece is fading,
I've told you this before.
Her scars are going away,
She wants to make more.
But she doesn't make any.
For the sake of those she loves.
She restrains from her paintbrush.
Even though it fits like a glove.
Her story is continuing,
Her painting isn't dry.
But her canvas is even more,
down upon her thigh.
Maybe she'll erase some drawings.
She's trying to be okay.
She actually doesn't want to get better.
But what am I supposed to say?
Be honest and say she doesn't want that?
Be truthful and say she doesn't care?
Because in her life right now,
Having no motivation? She wouldn't dare!
She misses the life she had before.
She didn't mind hiding her own part of her life.
She would just cope her own way.
She'd cope by using a knife.
Maybe one day she'll draw on an actual paper,
Or paint with an actual paintbrush,
But right now with her anxiety,
She feels that there is no rush.
Don't worry about the girl.
She just cries every night.
But she has to keep going,
Her best friend is in near sight.
It'll be alright everyone,
I'll keep you up to date,
The girl's painting will continue.
If that's the artist's fate.
Copyright © Madison Marie | Year Posted 2013
God is always love
Forever seek the kingdom;
Praise the creator
Keep giving what you can give
Please endure until the end
Protecting the meek ones earth
Watching over us
Helping us to cope with life
Comforted with hope and trust
When you find rhythm
You find your hearts inner core
Celebrate the times
Make them better than before
Reminisce and dance all night
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2013
Stress is starting to overwhelm me;
It’s certainly wearing on my health.
To many stressors all surround me:
Lack of time, lack of wealth,
Adult children always sponging off me…
Are pushing me into early death.
My landlord is not helping;
He’s forcing us to leave.
The mess my children made
Is something nobody would believe.
I’ts too late for cleaning.
I’ll be changing occupations
If interviews go well.
The uncertainty amplifies frustrations…
Certain Purgatory, uncertain Hell.
Hoping for tomorrow,
A better day…
Beg, steal, borrow.
Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014
She writes her songs and her poems,
not one person know 'em.
She listens to the sound of her music,
she's stuck to it like a tick.
If someone took the time to listen,
her true colors would glisten.
She's put on a mask,
and hid everything when someone asked.
She was the type of girl who would always laugh,
making you wish it would last.
She was the type of girl who would smile the day away,
too bad it is no longer that way.
She is now the girl who is depressed,
I bet you're impressed.
Since no one could tell
that she was going through hell.
Everyone thought she was happy,
when really, she felt crappy.
Everyone thought she was having the time of her life,
who would have guess her best friend was a knife?
She spent her days alone,
she seemed to do everything on her own.
Never once wanted help.
Thought she could do everything herself.
Then the day came,
when she lost the game.
She fell apart,
and everyone saw her broken heart.
They saw the way she overreacted.
Oh, if only you saw the way she acted.
She bruised herself, scratched herself, and made herself bleed,
no one knew what it was that she needed.
They saw her tears,
and that was what she feared.
They found out she wasn't okay,
oh, she hated that day.
Everyone found out about her secret,
and she wish they'd just forget,
but she knew they couldn't,
and that they wouldn't.
She left that town and started over,
no one knew she went undercover.
She said she got better,
when really... something else occurred.
She secretly hurt herself,
and walked away from help.
Everyone thought she recovered,
when really, she was undercover.
She secretly wanted to get worse,
no one knew of course.
No one cared to ask,
if she was wearing her mask.
Now it's too late,
she locked the gate.
everyone had forgotten she needed help.
Goodbye cold world,
this was a story of a girl
who once loved everyone
then feared who it was who won.
Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013
My hearts pounding
A steady thrum
That's drawing closer
A pain in my chest
With every single breath.
My hair is falling,
It pulls out in my hands
I cry as it wraps
around my fingers
with every strand.
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2014
Heard through the office grapevine
the boss will now resign.
Have to beat the deadline
or that position won't be mine.
I need to work and sacrifice
no sleep tonight, a wink's just nice.
Your Red Bull in my coffee
I drank, now look at me!
Thank you Lyric Man and FJ Thomas for the inspiration.
Reminds me of those days of endless coffee and antacids. :-)
Acknowledgment to flckr for the image of a Philippine tarsier
Kim Patrice Nunez
26 June 2015
Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015
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.
Copyright © stephanie hanvey | Year Posted 2013
L-iving in a world of vast
souls formed from
another voided world,
E-ntering thru portals
from their world to earth.
O-ozing spetacular smell
and wail when the chips
N-urtured from cradle to
entity with a new world
O-rganizes oneself for the
task ahead,passing thru
hurdles of life unabased
R-eaps the fruit of labor
with joy or heavy heart.
A-ge sets in,mission
accomplished or not will
dawn on the entity.
I-n retrospect,he thinks
about his childhood and
how life was to him.
L-iving in confidence or
shame,he bows his head
in victory or defeat.
O-nly the taste of time
will tell the durability of
V-oid of preference the
aim result bears the
foundation for his lineage.
E-njoyment or lack lies
with the works of the
man,for there is no food
for the slothful.
Y-oung ones,a stitch in
time saves nine,make
haste while the sun
O-iling your lamb always
like the ten virgins is the
key to success.
U-rging you to shun peer
pressure and focus on
the course marked out
for you by fate,so a
fulfilled life you shall live.
An acrostic for you
Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013
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.
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.
Copyright © Sienna Ethylpen | Year Posted 2013
I look at the calendar
Check the date and time
My appointment looms
Just three days to go
I light a lavender scented candle
And inhale the soothing scent
It calms my nerves
Only three days to go
I dread the though of the mammogram machine
Squeezing and squashing my breasts
Will my lump turn out to be cancer
Or just a benign cyst
Just three days to go
Just three days to go
And then I may know
Sponsored by Lewis Raynes
I discovered a lump in my breast and my mammogram is on 28th Feb which is
Shrove Tuesday or pancake day. I have to see the humourous side of it … it sure will squash my breasts as flat as pancakes.
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017
There are so many things we like to share
And bring love in to take away care
The best way to relieve stress
Is to remember the good times and happiness
We hear the words of grief and trouble
And we know that we can halve it and not double
We have been given the gift to see the funny side
With laughter and smiles so far and wide
Sharing our stories and kind words from the start
And the pleasure we bring will melt every heart
And help to heal loneliness, fear and pain
Then as we leave and please come again
Copyright © Vera Duggan | Year Posted 2016
The northern skies are turning gray --
Seems the sun just doesn’t linger.
Christmas is just a month away,
And the nights are getting longer.
That Thanksgiving spent with family—
A briefly pleasant holiday—
Was forgotten all too quickly
By pushy crowds on Black Friday.
Our gift checklist seems like old Saint Nick’s,
But our staff is lacking Elves.
Shopping trips cause daily panics.
I wonder how we’ll feed ourselves.
We must buy more decorations,
So the yard looks like it’s snowing.
We fall deeper in depressions
As our credit keeps on growing.
Lord forgive commercialism
For ruining every Christmas.
Lord forgive consumerism
For dumping on us all that stress.
December is a dreary time,
Even when little angels sing.
The irony of Christmas time
Was that Christ was born in the Spring.
While standing in the checkout line,
Remember what the carols told.
Think of how Bethlehem’s star once shined,
As Israel’s prophets foretold.
Think of the awe of the shepherds
When they saw angels fill the air.
Coming to the stable, entered,
To meet the Holy Family there.
Instead of spending all you have,
Next November and December,
Spend time with all of those you love,
And teach them what to remember.
"A Savior born in Bethlehem"
Should bring us joy and happiness;
And “ Peace on Earth, goodwill to men”
Should set us free, not bring us stress.
Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014
According to my neighborhood,
(All experts on the topic),
Opinions vary, none too good,
One called it "Catastrophic".
Exterminators sigh, refrain
Condolences, I'm sorry.
At City Hall, they're shocked, exclaim
They have no such Department
To know that squirrels are running wild,
I hear them as they scamper.
An attic is a sacred place,
Secure, not meant to tamper.
Their next move, chewing all the wire
And gnawing through the rafters.
I hear them squeak a vermin's choir
And hear my own crazed laughter.
That life dare heave this final ho,
But agents know thier timelines.
The hours when the house is shown,
Their outdoor play, the best time.
I also left the scheduled due
When freight train horns will pass through.
Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014
Take me back, to good old Rio
Let me lie there in the Sun
Then take a ride to Capo Ferro
Dancing Samba, having fun
And the girls will all be prancing
In the waves along the shore
Eating crab and fish together
That were caught the day before
As my passion starts increasing
Like the heat upon the grill
With all the stress now I'm releasing
I don't miss the northern chill
Take me back to good old Rio
Let me stay there to the end
No yesterdays or tomorrows
The place where night and day, just blends
Take me back.....
Copyright © Jerry T Curtis | Year Posted 2015
Truth, Shines Ever So Brightly
I was once wrapped it teeth and thick fur
ferocious and ghastly beast was me.
I was a bad dog, a wicked little cur
whipping and snapping at every small flea.
One day, the sun burnt my covering hide
and exposed my hideous skin to see.
Such truth, this heart could not abide
stung me ever so sharply like a bee.
Now comes time to hold less as much more
walk a different path free and alone.
Yes, light filtered through that sad door
where my greatest folly was then shown.
I was once wrapped in thick, shiny scales
Now a deep truth destroys those tall tales.
Robert J. Lindley, 1-09-2016
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016