Pressure

Pressure... it’s not a factor for me now.

It used to be but then the ice finally came around.

Now my heart pumps frost.

Half the adrenaline is lost.

And in the clutch I’m not phased

‘cause of my childhood days,

When I’d be content to let life slip,

until I let the wrong thing go from my grip.

And when it fell, it killed the warmth.

So I took it from the start.

Turned everything cold,

threw out all the old,

began the merger with the frost,

And no matter the cost,

I will transform to my sight,

to be the perfect prototype,

and with every written verse,

I’d find power to reverse

what I had messed up beforehand,

The goal is to understand.

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