The woman on the purple chair sat
looking far,
and past me said "I've never felt
happiness In my life I've been struggling
for so long".
Her hands want to surrender but holds
Her hair on top, not yet
I looked at her and her and past her I
can't beat Myself,
I told the young of a mother don't stress
Because when she stress I stress we
stress and stress together we are
Drowning in our own thoughts that
would be forgotten or fine dust
tomorrow,
Bought a bottle of cheap wine and some
other Drink,
no cigars one has to much of a
soul to smoke it away maybe when I'm
old and have nun left I would maybe
M a y b e to reel it back again,
My soul if its not yet lost into the cotton
Clouds,
she ask what we we're
celebrating
I smile and replied "stress times".
-ashespoetry
Saturday chill day
Another poem about stress lol My second poem about stress how are people doing? Eat, sleep, get some daily rest fresh air and just enjoy let yourself breathe xoxo.
