Pressures

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Pressures

Life is a mystery, we're searching for answers, most we will never find,
We struggle and stress over too many things, that make us go out of our mind.
We feel like the sky is fall down, but the dusk is before the dawn,
well its kind of hard to think that way when the lights are never on.
We sometimes feel like mixed tiles, the odd color only one in a few,
we try to be real, we try to undersand, yet we end up broken and bruised.
We try to get money, attempt to attain love, but never get what we want,
we break our backs, working long hours, then we go out to flaunt.
We need to get back to living our lives and expell whcih make us blind,
Dont worry about the future, we'll get what we need, everything comes in good time.

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Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

bricksta’s Poems (8)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Is Grass Really So Green? 0
Poetry to Me 0
Pressures 0
Depression 0
Burnt Out 0
Deep Depths of my Mind 2
Keep it Green 1
In Love 0