"overworking" poems
Failure.
Everyone experiences it,
In various shapes and forms,
School. grades. friends. Life,
Lots of frustration,
Hard work and dedication,
But still failed,
Endless studying,
Overworking oneself,
Thoughts of achieving success,
Like trying to find a needle in a haystack,
The dream of getting the test,
With the BIG A on it,
Feeling the ease of the heavy stress,
Uplift off the shoulders,
Knowing that they did it,
They made the dream they were striving for,
Having the joy of saying,
I have succeed.
But the dream fades away,
The feeling of coming out of a coma,
To see yourself in class,
Doing nothing, but daydreaming,
You realized upon that,
To be doomed to the fate,
Of failing once again.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 11:04 AM UTC
The pressure’s building up
I feel like soda that’s been dropped.
I feel like I’m about to explode
And I know that soon I’ll pop.
I know what’s about to happen
And I need to escape this room.
Where I go, I don’t know.
But I need to flee the impending doom.
I need to get to the clinic.
There I know I’ll be fine.
They always knows what to do;
But can I make it in time?
But no, it’s too late.
My soda bottle has blown.
I am no longer able to move, for
The seed of anxiety has grown.
Now I’ve collapsed, and
My rational side has died.
I can’t handle this-make it stop!
My strength is again being tried.
All the techniques I’ve memorized
Have completely flown my mind.
All the things I have prepared
Are suddenly unable to find.
“Don’t forget to just breathe!”
Ah, yes, the mantra of those “helpful” ones.
Well, here’s a newsflash for you-
Being told that helps NONE!
My lungs are overworking now,
And my heart is beating fast.
And every single breath I take
I fear it might be my last.
My hands have spiders in them.
My brain has gone offline.
My vision’s getting foggy;
Please- just don’t pass out this time.
My mind is leaving my body
And it’s floating freely in air.
I’m no longer able to feel anything
Please help me; I’m so scared.
Now I’m descending back to my body
And I can feel every atom around me.
It’s too much-make it stop!
Why can’t anybody hear my plea?
Luckily I calm down
Before my monster gets his way.
He’s returning back to hiding now
But I know he’ll soon come back to play.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 2:05 PM UTC
I feel like my brain has put an ad block on emotion
And when I try to reach out for you I see a pop up warning me that No! This function cannot be accessed whilst an Ad Block is in use.
So, I try to uninstall and reset the browser but I wake up just the same.
An empty shell of technology, faulty wiring falling into the hands of those without the qualifications to find the on-switch.
A brain both in standby and overworking, an overheating of wired vessels working overtime to provide life to a barely-functional heart.
The quiet murmur of my breathing the only reminder that there is still something behind the blank screen.
You try to keep your patience but I know you want to just throw me to the wall, an excuse to replace my shattered interface with the newest model.
A model that doesn’t feel like it takes them 3 years to get out of bed every morning, a model that doesn’t seem to contract a new virus every day.
Maybe I’m just tired, maybe I’ve run my course, maybe I’ve accidentally encountered malware. Maybe I am the malware.
Or maybe, my brain has put an Ad Block on emotion.
And when I try to reach out for you I see a pop up warning me that No! This function cannot be accessed whilst an Ad Block is in use.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
not seeing straight
curving my eyes inside
enjoying the
color of disorganized neutrons
connecting themselves
overworking their structure
shooting feelings out
to be seen
as i glance again
straight at you
Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 7:40 PM UTC
The wind strikes from the sea.
There is a cold from our side.
Windows come to the north.
We want to overcome the distance,
to jump out on sails.
The big blue is opening for us.
We fall down pale with the breeze under our shirts.
Time was working against our will.
Slowly
we are landing
in this big jump out from overworking.
The seagulls are laughing at us with yellow beaks.
Jul 30, 2021
Jul 30, 2021 at 6:37 AM UTC
Underappreciated,
For overworking.
And yet look at what you expect!
A smile every day and a simple
'No problem, I can take care of it.'
And you answer the phone,
Take your several smoke breaks,
Try to impress the higher ups,
While looking down on all of us.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
Playstation.
Running as fast as it can.
Lava flowing through,
From component one,
To component two.
An engine.
Overworking.
Solder joints and Silicon,
The things that break,
Difficult to be undone.
Metal and plastic.
Assembled in crazy ways.
So soon to be,
In so many realities,
A state of disrepair.
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
Play
overdoing
overworking
overthinking
overeating
overdrinking
Pause
the leftovers
of me
always lying
over here
over there
Eject
my seat
overseas
Game over.
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
I wonder how many times you have climbed into a tub and thought,
"Wow maybe I could drown in hopes of escaping my life."
I dont know how many of you have thought that but let's just say a few.
One: I step into the tub with my left foot and the water is immensely warm.
Downing pills couldn't be that bad right now.
Maybe I could grab the bottle without anybody noticing.
I wonder if I could make my own concoction of medicine would suffice.
Concoction is a funny word.
Two: I step in with my right foot and everything is tingling from the heat.
If I charge my phone from the plug over there by the sink,
Could I electrocute myself?
I wonder how bad electrocution hurts.
Deep fried food would be nice right now.
Three: I sink into the tub and pull my knees to my chest.
if I lay back now and fight myself from breathing,
Could I do it?
I wonder how long it takes somebody to drown themselves in a tub while fighting their instinct to survive.
I could adapt and grow gills.
Four: I lay back into my tub and watch the water rise.
The water is warm and my body is heavy.
I can't **** myself because my headstone will be something sad,
My funeral will play music I'll hate listening to as a ghost,
People I don't even know will show up.
What if my ex shows up?
Five: I sink lower into the water until I can no longer hear clearly and it tickles the side of my eyes.
What's the point in breathing.
Breathing is so weird.
Why do I have to maintain a body that's going to die anyways?
I wonder what dying feels like.
Six: I've been in here for an hour. Maybe I should get out.
This water has turned mildly lukewarm.
I'd like to stay but I'm getting kinda cold and I like the warmth.
Could I just empty half and add more hot water?
I am sitting in a pool of my own dirt.
Great.
Seven: I'm climbing out while simultaneously pulling the stopper.
Theres so many different ways to say that you or somebody is dying;
Kick the bucket.
Pull the plug.
One foot in the grave.
Bite the dust.
Croak.
Some of them are kinda funny.
Eight: Realizing that I love baths but hate the thoughts that come with the quiet bathroom.
I'm exhausted.
The mental kind of exhausted.
Can I stop now?
Can I just lay down and close my eyes?
My anxiety is overworking me.
Nine: I open my door with a stiff towel and a cold room.
I love the quiet but the quiet kills.
I love my mind yet the way it works is poisonous to me.
Ten: Nothing.
Sitting.
Alone.
In my empty bedroom.
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 1:17 AM UTC
Don't take a lot to get this person inspired
As his arms grow weak and tired
Hoping to god he doesn't expire
As passes on through the fire
And chases what he admires
Angel kisses that put faith in all he so desires
But this ain't the same man who remember who wrote confessions
Passed up selling his soul to gain a few more blessings
People, anymore questions?
I choose to plead the fifth
Your antagonist ways slowly **** me like an active cyst
As I clinch both my fist and prepare for hopeless battle
With friends, family I love and those who truly matter
A spoonful of pure disaster
Mind bursting with thoughts...
The hardest battle in my life is the one internally fought
To think twice with gun while the devil dares you to pull the trigger and growing as an outcast a half Caucasian ni@@a who strikes with pure aggression, ignored but received the message
Push every good woman away who probably could of gave him leverage
To rise high to the sky, Jesus god me oh my
A half empty glass full of broken dreams and tears from his eyes
But denies it and just lies cause weakness is pain leaving the body
He won't lower his guard for a single person, NOT NOBODY!
But even a lion gotta know when to drop his pride and say sorry...so
Sorry for all the issues, all I've ever put you through
The truth is you was my biggest fan and I didn't wanna wish on you
Father you are forgiven, It's times for me to start living
Slaving my internal freedom, overworking them in my Hell's Kitchen
Listen...cause I'm disappearing and placing my world in disguise
**Thank you Hello Poetry
Im calling it quits but it's been a great ride...alotta wishes inside...no longer feel the need to write...I'm done but
I leave you with final piece "Lookin through his eyes"** live for every moment, love yourself
Actually...don't take my advice
(Do you)
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC
Play ball.
Bathroom stalls.
Cotton candy.
Randy Jackson.
Action films, comedies, and romances.
Shopping malls.
Blue ***** and hot chicks.
**** itch.
Shop lift.
Pockets full of chocolates.
A rock in my pocket reminds to think.
I hate when my clothes shrink.
Smoke rings.
Chinese Yo Yos.
** Hos and a slurpee.
7 11, stopped for munchies and im thirsty.
Working overtime.
Overworking me.
The herbal remedy has my mind fried.
Blind sided.
Hindsight is 20/20.
Im lazy.
The shades are pulled down.
Its hazy.
Inactive.
Let me roll this blunt in the back seat of this cadillac.
Two P, pass that.
Im not looking to die.
Im looking for life after death.
Aftermath.
Nothing left.
Blasted, not bombs.
Its my head and my chest.
Its the sess.
On my finger tips and on my breath.
I exhale clouds of wickedness.
Cleanse the soul.
Refresh.
Impress the judges to sway their interests.
Dec 2, 2011
Dec 2, 2011 at 12:51 AM UTC
Proverbs make the essence of human behaviour bearable.
On the contrary - human behaviour doesn't have such a tremendous impact on our thoughts. When you behave, you don't think much. You just do it! And if your habits are healthy, then you're a lucky one. Or a wise one. Discipline is in structuring your will. Strong will and work builds character. They say your character is your destiny.
Practice !!
And never forget: wether you're doing or non-doing
( wise or unwise for the observer ) ~ always listen to your heart.
The heart has 5000 times stronger electro magnetic energy than our mind. Don't exhaust yourself overthinking or overworking.
Discipline doesn't suffice for moments in which we have to make a decision. Some decisions are important. Don't ***** your life!
Don't think too much!
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 3:51 PM UTC
My mania is kind and diligent
that beautiful I woke up like this flawless
It's warm and laughs at the most ridiculous things
and so overwhelmingly optimistic
glass half full with room for more
My depression is ugly and scarred and sees all my flaws
that haven't showered in weeks kind of hermit life
there's a house and world outside of my bed
it doesn't want me to see
what a surprise
My mania is caring and gentle
taking me on treat yourself trips
while overworking because there's work to be
done and there's motivation to do it right now
and we don't know when we'll have this again
My depression is soft in actions but harsh in words
and the feelings it creates
It is too deep in my comfort space
My mania usually keeps its visits short because
staying would only make me act like a normal
productive member of society and my depression
claims that I can't be one of those for long and
calls me back to the bed
always back to the bed
I'm sick of the bed
Mania was visiting last week though
so I know I'll be in bed for the next few months
until my mania makes it's presence known once again
I guess I'll wait
here in my bed
growing tired of the bed
restless
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 11:14 PM UTC
Any day now, I'm either gonna **** somebody, or end up dead myself.
Dramatic, I know.
And hey, maybe nobody will take me seriously when I say that.
Figures.
So far, the only people who give a **** are the people who believe I'm still a good person. And I'm not saying they're wrong, I'm just saying it doesn't matter to me if they're right.
Because I don't feel I deserve anything.
I can never focus on anything. I'm writing this because I should be doing other work right now. But when I'm not thinking about this, I'm overworking, or sleeping, or crying again, or shouting again.
I feel physically sick just being in this much pain. It's never gonna be driven out of my body until I get a **** miracle.
But those aren't really coming my way.
If karma is responsible for all of this than haven't I endured enough? Something needs to break the cycle. Or I just have to break. Act out, get expelled or suspended, consider the empty possibility of my thanatophobia finally leaving me.
I stopped caring about myself when an old enemy decided to step in and come after me. But the remarkable thing is that I handled it without attracting more trouble. That doesn't mean it didn't pain me to set myself aside to do so.
I'm not a complete pacifist. And my dangerous nature only gets stronger when left unquestioned by all. So yeah, I'm scared as hell of myself. But then again, so are other people.
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 2:18 AM UTC
Is there really such a thing as "free time?"
How can there be, when an hour spent practicing "self care" costs two hours of frantic writing and googling to finish an assignment due that very same day,
when a day taken off of work costs two days worth of unpaid overtime to catch up on the overload,
when a week spent recovering from another plunge into depression costs two more to find any semblance of order again.
When did it become shameful to "stop and smell the roses?" When did we stop encouraging "family time" and start encouraging forty-hour work weeks? When did "taking a break" become synonymous with "being lazy" and "hard work" become synonymous with "overworking?"
If making ends meet costs us our time,
then what's the price of Happiness?
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 5:17 PM UTC
You ever think of death?
Some fear the thought of it, afraid
because what they have done in this life.... will haunt them
in the next.
But others they can't wait to take the plunge,
today a boy killed himself.
I mean he took not his life, but the life that his parents put into him
How? Why? I don't know. Can anyone answer my questions? Can anyone hear the thoughts that scream in my head of what really matters... It seems to me nothing does.
Was it all pre-planed by a god the-- God?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know(Do I want to know?).............. Just the other day a boy was left out in the cold and died, he somehow got across town, away from his fraternity, his "brothers." Not just a few blocks away from my house.
And with that, a girl, who I knew, died from sickness and overworking herself.... When she knew she was sick...... did she do this to herself?
Was it known that all these people would die at these specific times, down to a point blank of the second, because every movement, every thought, and choice they ever made led up to that moment of their life.
Had this god made up their life, and known?
It is weird to think that these peoples bodies are still here, yet lifeless.... how can a body be limp? How does a life leave? What causes it? What causes death, death of a body-of a soul leaving from a beating heart and thinking mind... Personalities gone.
I don't know, and it hurts some part of me that I can't explain.
I ask you to think of not being alive, of there to be nothing after death---- try. Try picturing a world without your thought. Going further than picturing a black nothingness....
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 11:55 PM UTC
By Joseph Childress
Humans For Sale
Our new product
Was produced
By the finest scientist
Rigorous research
Developed over ages
With pages upon pages
On the way's of Man
Which have made it
To this manual
Our manuscript
Comes with a planner
To document
The detailed descriptions
Of the
.Human Revolution.
They carry out
In your manner
For we've finally discovered
How to turn off it's soul!
Our standard package
Is for any industry
We've oiled all it's joints
For maximum mobility
Whenever their overworking
Strings stretch
From their shoulders
To allow shrugs
At your command
So it's hands
Can work for hours
While following your demands
I know you puppeteers
Take offense
To puppet's tears
Report any malfunctions
If the manufactured
Model shows emotion
And we'll threaten
Them with the fire
That they use to own
The titanium's knit tight
Taught enough
For the toughness of man
The silver hooks
Slide through slits
Of flesh
To make value
Of the empty vessel
The heart
Serves as battery
Connecting
Copper veins
To gain momentum
In it's electric brain
Our premium package
Allows wireless extensions
Of control...
Behold!
The new televised eyes
Provide hallucinations
In lucrative amounts
Which will prove
To be illustrious
In it's illustrated sight
The special effect
On it's vision
Is our last step
In
.Human Revision.
Puppeteers!!!
Our market
Is uncontrolled
The loopholes show
The puppets inability
To function
The component of soul
As owner
Be satisfied
Of the power
They don't know
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
breakfast is the most important meal of the day
which is something i would laugh off
as my stomach would growl in my nutritions class
and i learned to inhale sharply to somehow combat the noise
the noise of my stomach screaming to the world in that backstabbing way
that i am not eating breakfast
nor did i eat much of dinner
nor will i want to be able to stomach anything for lunch
“i’m completely normal”
my eating habits aren’t rapidly fluctuating
i’m not sleeping during completely random times of the day
trying to sleep off my body’s hunger
like i can sleep off frustration
(nutrients are a constant need
they don’t just stop being things you need
because you just don’t want anything
in your body anymore)
you used to want so much
what’s so baffling is that sometimes
hunger can feel like the muffled conversation
riddled with worry
hunger is the knocking on the door
telling you that it wants to come in
and you don’t want it to
but for a reason you know makes no sense
but it makes perfect sense in the moment
when your brain shakes hands with itself
and tells you that eating is for when the work is done
when the reward is deserved
that a need is a want
and needs are intangible things that keep you socially alive
rather than actually
and then you ask yourself
if you, wanting to feel alive
is the problem
when i don’t eat
i am empty
i don’t make ****** functions
because my body cannot function
and when i function,
my body is empty
and to keep my body empty
i do not eat
there is no beauty in feeling hollow
breakfast is the most important meal of the day
which is something i would laugh off
as i could barely stand up in a hot shower
as i could barely utter a conscious word
without overworking my brain
my brain that shakes hands with itself
to communicate with itself
that i do not deserve to eat food
i do not deserve to feel alive
i want eating
to feel normal
i want to put
priority on food
but i cannot bear
to feel present
but i cannot bear
to be present
when i do not
feel present
because i am
not present
i am not
me
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 3:17 AM UTC
A bridge broken from one side to another.
A telephone wire cut.
Something's wrong inside my head.
The thing is, I don't know just what.
Chirping alarms
Whirring fans
Smoky smells
Red. Blinking. Lights.
A robot whose been programmed wrong,
An exposed sparking wire.
The buttons don't click all the way.
Hazardous, watch for fire.
Danger
Danger
Danger
Do not approach
This automatic switch is supposed to make me excited
This one makes a genuine smile.
Nobody notices, though, that I'm on manual control
And have been for a while.
Overheating
Overworking
Overdoing
Over
Electricity and buttons and wires
Do not mix well with water, I think.
But because I'm in desperate need of repair
I'm in constant thirst for a drink.
"Should have bought that extended warranty."
"Did you turn it off and on again?"
No.
No. Because it's broken.
Hard drive shorting
Lights are blinking
And I'm thinking
My last thoughts exporting
Crackling
Clicking
Clattering
Clanking
Clunking
The only thing that works well anymore
Is the part that goes through the motions.
Perseverance is my constant notion
As I burn myself out on the shore.
It's hot to the touch.
Back off.
Soon, it might Explode
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 9:14 PM UTC
A telephone wire cut.
Something's wrong inside my head.
The thing is, I don't know just what.
Chirping alarms
Whirring fans
Smoky smells
Red. Blinking. Lights.
A robot whose been programmed wrong,
An exposed sparking wire.
The buttons don't click all the way.
Hazardous, watch for fire.
Danger
Danger
Danger
Do not approach
This automatic switch is supposed to make me excited
This one makes a genuine smile.
Nobody notices, though, that I'm on manual control
And have been for a while.
Overheating
Overworking
Overdoing
Over
Electricity and buttons and wires
Do not mix well with water, I think.
But because I'm in desperate need of repair
I'm in constant thirst for a drink.
"Should have bought that extended warranty."
"Did you turn it off and on again?"
No.
No. Because it's broken.
Hard drive shorting
Lights are blinking
And I'm thinking
My last thoughts exporting
Crackling
Clicking
Clattering
Clanking
Clunking
The only thing that works well anymore
Is the part that goes through the motions.
Perseverance is my constant notion
As I burn myself out on the shore.
It's hot to the touch.
Back off.
Soon, it might Explode
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 8:05 PM UTC
life *****
friends change
people leave
life feels like a pattern
of never ending sadness
the minute I get happy
60 seconds later it's gone
I'm an over thinker
and I know that
I get late night sadness
and suddenly nothing else falls in place
I feel a little numb
and none of the puzzle pieces fit
while people are leaving
friends are changing
and life is *******
I still do not get handed a break
because my mind is overworking
I get handed some loneliness
and all the sudden every thought I have
revolves around reasonings why
no one will ever want me
I'm the worlds best "worst thinker"
and I'm sorry
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 12:21 AM UTC
The destruction of this family has
since been long overdue
The clock has stopped moving since
six o'clock
The grandmother died of illness
The father ran away with a *****
The mother collapsed from overworking herself
The child left untended for too long
Why this happened no one knows
Since six o'clock they all left away
Abandoned,
forgotten,
dead.
The clock stopped at six o'clock,
it was long overdue.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 3:08 PM UTC