Another year’s gone by too fast.
But the birthday stress now has past.
I had too much cake and coffee too,
had a party and stepped in poo.
Perhaps an omen or maybe not,
or a reminder of things forgot.
Crappy stuff happens every day.
And we often slip along the way.
Yesterday being our only prep,
surprises await with every step.
Life can stink as we all know,
but sometime wrapped with a bow.
My shoes now scraped, no damage done.
My time ahead I’ll wish for fun.
I won’t let aging make me sad,
the alternative being really bad.
The dreaded day is coming,
it makes the poet cringe.
Their ink is overflowing,
all the world will binge.
Heartfelt words sculpted,
sent to loved ones who are dear.
Stress is soon to peak,
the deadline’s growing near.
“I love you” bought and sold,
drug stores sell out fast.
But first the prediction,
then the shadows cast.
Winter winds still blowing,
heat’s felt in the heart.
The pressure now’s building,
for another Valentines’ start.
A stressful day was made by me.
But better soon, just wait and see.
Yesterday’s gone and today is here.
The worst is over, no need to fear.
The intro had and all was fine.
I am yours and you are mine.
The love we share now is known.
The pair I needed was finally grown.
In times of worry and feeling stress,
when plans made become a mess,
you’ll find the answers no need to guess.
You’re surrounded by friends, no need to regress.
Troubling thoughts we will address,
my care for you I’ll gladly express.
Our love will grow stronger, never less.
And when a hug’s needed I’ll always say yes.
We work by day and dream at night.
In between we live and fight.
We fight for peace and for love.
We fight to live, we push and shove.
Sometimes we give, sometime we break.
We sometime take more than we make.
We fight for much and for less.
We fight for time to fight off stress.
We’ve fought for us and for them.
We fought for merit and to condemn.
We fight the ills that lurk within.
We fight our demons so we may win.
Yet battles won are never done.
And battles lost are never one.
But still we fight until at last we die.
We’ll fight for breath to at last ask why.
When frustration stays
Stress and anxiety start
Writers block happens
Writing writes its own right time
Minds need recharging
The signs never clear
Signals usually crossed
Paths always lead on