Pressure, Pressure is what looms over me.

Growing up with sense and some type of task,

Forced to be the best I can be.

School covers the face of stress with a mask.

The future holds relief, I deeply need.

The choice is mine to decide. What’s next?

I will take the bull by its horn, and lead.

A chance to figure out, a time to flex.

A piece of mind is certainly given.

Down the road may seem far, but it is near.

A peaceful future which seems so thrilling.

Fate and Fortune is what I hold dear.

The bridge to the past will lastly shatter.

Now is the time to ask, what is after?


This poem is about: 
Our world


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741