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Under Pressure
Shoulders heavy and strain.
Thoughts of being proper in my brain.
Keep holding them up as they say my name.
This world cannot be tamed.
The weight is heavy and unbearable.
Weakening my tested status.
Making me become another Atlas
Painful suffering without a cure.
How much longer can I endure?
Feeling so insecure.
My life is obscure.
Am I doomed to hold fast?
For I fear that I will not last.
For if I fail, I’ll drown my sorrows.
To relieve the stress, as follows.
By grabbing a bottle of hollows.
For my ever-unquenchable swallows.
Tricking my mind with thoughts of tomorrows.
I must not let go and for some, depend on me like the Apollos.
For I require more strength and inspiration to borrow.
Copyright ©
Vanessa Bell
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