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Mel Jan 2021
ษชา“ ษช'แด แด€สŸแดษดแด‡
สœแดแดก แด„แดแดแด‡ ษช แด„แด€ษด า“แด‡แด‡สŸ
แด›สœแดแดœsแด€ษดแด…sย ย 
แดœแด˜แดษด แด›สœแดแดœsแด€ษดแด…sย ย 
แดา“ สœแด€ษดแด…s
แด˜แดœsสœษชษดษข แดษด แดแด‡
า“ส€แดแด แด‡แด แด‡ส€ส แด…ษชส€แด‡แด„แด›ษชแดษด
It was fun to think of this one, thinking about how many ways it can be interpreted
Some time alone
means giving yourself a break
from the pressure
and stress of life.
low poetry Dec 2020
i like to write under high pressure
you make me feel pleasure
sweet precious

i like to transform move to dance
old form can make new sense
or be nonsense

opened myself to feel the rhythm
doesnโ€™t care itโ€™s good or bad time
this moment like a shiny gem
stop playing their silly game

trying new like chef cook
paid for everything I took
reading the next big book
she like the way I look
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2020
Plenty of people
Pour their opinions on me
Find pressure pointless
The majority actually
mark soltero Dec 2020
i wish for my own good
but my truth is the weight of my option

iโ€™ve only found that my true illumination
comes from darkness that covers my sight
from the pressure created inside
Softly played music soothes
The wind howls as cars pass.
The fluorescent light shines on me.
Alone by myself, in a small room.
Paying for stress and work.
A slave of my own making.
I hope it will be worth it.
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Caleb A Johnson Dec 2020
I tried once
To be what I am not
Gave myself a shove
Tried to be forgot
My shape shifted
And for a moment
I was grifted
I cannot
Be what I am
Not
One day I was fuming over the cruelty of the worlds barriers to success for those who genuinely want it, thought I'd change myself to make it. But then I realized, I am not that person and that was the source of my anxiety.
Anais Vionet Nov 2020
You know, I used to be happy all of the time.
What the heck happened? I used to go weeks
without crying, I used to love going to school.

In fairness, I liked real school - not the sad,
sterile, anti-social, virtual experience.

When I'm mad I get silly, then mean. I don't
always know why - angry is the answer, but
I donโ€™t always get the subconscious analysis
behind it. That's a bad day - I'm truly sorry.

If I could step back, in those moments,
and think - clearly - I'm about the luckiest person.

I'm a hundred pounds of privilege
- if we rounding up - but pressurized,
stressed like a movie submarine in deep dive.

I think I miss people - like in an assembly
- before it starts - where a hundred conversations
clash like the random patter of rain. Thatโ€™s one
of the sounds of joy.

The civilized brain is soaked in the opinions,
and shared experiences with others. These virtual,
interactive shadows on flat screens can't fill the void.
pandemic pressures squeeze us all - even if you think you're immune.
Can you feel the pressure,
Can you feel it with me,
Because every single time when i see your face,
it reminds me of how life is full of grace,

Can you feel the pressure,
Can you feel it with me,
when times get hard and our hearts are broken life seems unbearable, mistakable, and unforgettable.

Don't leave these scars on my heart,
I promise it will never fall apart.

Can you feel the pressure,
Can you feel it with me?
I was randomly singing words to myself this morning, and i didn't know why, so i decided to write it down into a poem. A love poem, with some humor.
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