| 
       
        | | 
					| 
 |  
					| 
							
								| back to poetry by year | next poem,  previous poem |  
		| Stress | 8/9/2012 |  
     | There's always a certain level of stress that begins with any mess. When more is never less.
 I am the font never regular but big and bold.
 I am the young still that will never grow old.
 A certain level of pain can conquer any hopes of success.
 I feel the threshold that was already told.
 I feel the heat rising that was once cold.
 Something I can never caress.
 
 |  |  
					| 
 |  | 
 |  
 
     | [use > to go next and < to go previous. tab and shift+tab can also be used]
Copyright © Mirrorglassball 2009-2025 |  |