Should I Dress Or Should I Stress?

Morning dew wasn’t due but I bid adieu and in lieu came the luring sunshine. As I sit besieged by the rays, I bid to scribe a bit but unlit was the script. I sat and pondered on the wonders of my future words but I felt I was cursed with stern words. Tick tock, the time is sublime as I surrender in suspended self judgement.

I think it is best that I rest as I sketch a set. Perhaps I will be blessed and not pressed to scribe any vibes that rides my side. I should not stress as this isn’t a test. Perhaps I should dress before this quest. I could set aside all my lines after I am dressed.

I had planned a promenade but I was afraid and my thoughts became a crusade of overplayed serenades. Dismayed, I could not persuade myself otherwise and all my good intentions cascaded. My plan was shaded and I traded my walk for a talk.

As I talked, I was chocked with flaws. Inside I brawled and I was left to crawl. Forbidden confidence paid tribute to solitude. This is the tune that attributes my attitudes. I am destitute and I guess this is absolute. I am locked within and I have to dock.

I strive to survive. I feel the glide as I ride this plight. I might dive but I think I might hold tight. Right, this time I will invite and subscribe rather than fly. I thrive when I scribe. I delight to break light when I write. The fights within is of no blessing as stressing is depressing. Suppressing my thoughts is procrastinating. So I think I will emanate to my writing rather than talk any more.

Still, I sit undressed as I fester to invest in a rest. At best I could address the finesse of my mental arrest. Alas, I am unimpressed and I feel that I should stay abreast rather than digress. I suggest that I ought not confess and express my mental contest. It is probably best to dress rather than stress.

So formal is my paranormal account of my being bound. I am thought abnormal as I write my journal. My inner infernal turmoil affects my external affairs, this is so unfair. I would not dare to stare at my fate. As of late I have derailed over my debates. Should I be late then I would rate this as a bale of negative waves.

I set a compromise as I decided to reside to a rest. Besides, it is high time to set aside my desires. Deliberate my state of mind. There is no obligation as to whether I am stationed at my inner destination. Formation of information is just a creation of millions of negative collaborations. An elemental collation that befalls us all.

Perhaps, instead of the rest, I should just dress. I am fed up of the stress that this whole mythical mess has excavated. I set sail to no avail, so, I should bail the trail. This parade authors my every thoughts and anguish that I behold. The day is drained of its energy and I am besieged to rest.

Sundown has approached and my day has been poached by my thoughts. I am encroached within my course. I am sore and torn, I sometimes wished I wasn’t born. I can’t control my emotions, I guess I am stationed within my inner turmoil. I will forget to dress. I guess this is best. Perhaps this was a test.

Miyetti Seva


Please let us know what you think and you can also find this poem on Scriggler


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