A Pressing Beast
Hands shaking
Heart beating
Mind whirling
Why must I worry so?
I simply can’t
It isn’t even possible
My mind is stopping me
A deep black hole
A pessimistic beast
There is no use
I’ll never do it
The beast takes it away,
Seizes the confidence
It’s so simple!
I shouldn’t worry,
But I can’t help it
When the it presses
its fingers into me
This poem is about:
Me