Stress...
All my stress, makes such a mess.I can't clean it up. I wish my stress would die.And so do Iwish I could die.Really you askNo not reallywell maybe my stress is eating my aliveI might as well diveinto a pool and not come up.no no no you sayhow much did they payyou to sayno no no I won't dieI will not die.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world