Catharsis: 365 days of poetry

94: Slow

Irrational fear of becoming a failure, expectations higher than any skyscraper.

Fear of falling on hard concrete, the pressure more dense than whatever you put above me.

Look at what I have become, a vision of things that have yet to come.

I don't even think life has shaped me this grand, for when the fog clears away all good will come back.

Take a good look at the wonders, look at the love should ever last longer.

Taking my time as the day goes by, taking it slow in this game called life.