PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Stopper


I was a Stopper, a panic, a coil, Watching. With Awe. as my life would spoil Away with fear as I lay in my slumber. Falsely believing my days were numbered. They feel the weight of the pressure upon their lungs, Leaving so many. So Many. words unsung. Wondering, waiting to be like all the others, Talking, laughing, belonging without a bother. The panic makes them their own worst enemy, Hiding themselves like grime on a penny. They can't hear over the paralyzing fear of the crowd, Stopping their lives to avoid the sound. I am still a Stopper, now a breather, and more. Stopping the panic before my life will spoil. You will learn to live and breathe without numbers, just Focus on reasons to awake from that slumber.
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

eifelprincess

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

Comments are closed for this poem.