Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 20
I've become so stressed
Every little thing,
from what dress to a salad with cress?
I have forgotton what makes me even tick
What makes me smile,
from words on the crossword to my morning sick
And from my tick onto my tock
What still fits ,
What do I wear from my joggers to a frock
To calculate my brain from maths to a sudoku sum,
these used to be so easy
Jeez, what have I become?
My legs just keep kicking and are now so restless
A kick now inside out,
this babys just wants h** final exit
Still months to go but getting all so bigger
Every day some more weight on,
I cannot wait for its final ****** trigger!

John Bartholomew
Written by
John Bartholomew  42/M/Cambridge
   SUDHANSHU KUMAR and Cody Smith
Please log in to view and add comments on poems