We often hear of people breaking down from overwork, but in nine out of ten they are really suffering from worry or anxiety.
quote by John Lubbock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Men do not die from overwork. They die from dissipation and worry.
quote by Charles Evans Hughes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Breaking The Law
There I was completely wasting, out of work and down
All inside its so frustrating as I drift from town to town
Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die
So I might as well begin to put some action in my life
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
So much for the golden future, I cant even start
Ive had every promise broken, theres anger in my heart
You dont know what its like, you dont have a clue
If you did youd find yourselves doing the same thing too
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
You dont know what its like
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law, breaking the law
Breaking the law
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Powers of Hate
Hate is the opposite of love.
These emotions are powerful.
Hate stirs up conflicts and wars.
Discrimination is a cause of hate.
People say hate is a powerful word.
It is indeed a powerful word hate.
Hate brings on Anxiety
Anxiety leads to fear.
Fear brings on anger.
Anger leads to suffering.
Suffering causes death.
This feeling is dark and dreadful.
Hate is represented by the color black.
Such a dark deep color like hate.
In the dictionary there are too many words that mean hate.
Does all Humanity hate each other.
People hate you for your beliefs, interests, dress, even the way you look.
Thinking that hate will be a solved problem is only a madman's dream.
poem by Vega Destiny Star
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Worry affects the circulation, the heart, the glands, the whole nervous system. I have never known a man who died from overwork, but many who died from doubt.
quote by Charles H. Mayo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Runaway
So many things that you could say or do
Dont wanna say goodbye
So many nights that I would cry for you
But you were cold as ice
Now Im searching for
Someone I can be sure of
Sacrifice the only one that I need
No hideaway for the runaway
Every creature of love had excited me
Someone is breaking your heart (heart) (heart)
So tomorrow Ill tell you that Im sorry
And its too late to worry if
Someone is breaking your heart (heart) (heart)
Just an echo of a distant dream
That slowly disappears in the
Magic of the ecstasy
That flows between the tears
Then before my eyes the crystal was broken
I swallowed every promise you made
No hideaway for the runaway
Every creature of love had excited me
Someone is breaking your heart (heart) (heart)
So tomorrow Ill tell you that Im sorry
And its too late to worry if
Someone is breaking your heart (heart) (heart)
Moonlight is cruel as the light
And the future is only a lie
Oh, baby
Birds of a feather will fly
Im alone in the night
No hideaway for the runaway
Every creature of love had excited me
Someone is breaking your heart (heart) (heart)
So tomorrow Ill tell you that Im sorry
And its too late to worry if
Someone is breaking your heart (heart) (heart)
So tomorrow Ill tell you that Im sorry (fade)
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe in work, hard work, and long hours of work. Men do not breakdown from overwork, but from worry and dissipation.
quote by Charles Evans Hughes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forgiveness Is Not the Key
I look down at the people, I worry about their woes
I worry about their joys, their friends, their foes
I worry about their lives and the way they live it
I worry about their dreams and wonder if they’ll heed it
I worry about the tears I see running down their face
I worry about their lies they tell in this time and place
I worry about their truths that always hurt more
I worry about what they will definitely have in store
I look down at the people who never showed compassion
Who hate each other with the strongest passion
Who pushed me aside as though I were nothing
I wonder, do they care about anything?
I realise they treat each other as dirt
And they revel within all the hurt
Not one ever worried for me
I’m so glad that I can finally see
I refuse to worry or care about them and their petty ways
I will never again worry for their days
Because not one ever cared for me
Forgiveness is not the key
Not when I live life so lonely
I want to be loved only
For them I’ll never again feel woe
Because I’ll be nothing but their foe
poem by Lenore Lee
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Don't Worry
Can you sleep as the sound
hits youre ears one at a time
non spoken balance here
nabrige for so meany years
that i should stare at receivers
to recive her isn't fair
dont worry ill catch you
dont worry ill catch you
dont ever worry your arms in mine any time
wouldnt trade any thing
youre still my everything
to my suprise and
for my eyes your life
dont worry ill catch you
dont worry ill catch you
dont ever worry
still breaking old habbits habbits
you pulled the world over me
i can see everything everything
remembering just loven n vain
dont worry ill catch you
dont worry ill catch you
dont ever worry
no need for reminding
ur still all that matters to me
song performed by by Simple Plan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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52 Degrees
A heavy dew splashes my window
52 Degrees of cold mist outside
Too cold to touch
Beautiful to stare
Right there
Nothing.
Calm smudge
Distorts the world
Breaking all peceptual realities
Just beyond my dreary window
It'll be right there, waiting, stalking
Just as you exit the warmth
Chill you to the bone
Penetrate the skin, muscles
Numbing the worry
The anxiety
Momentarily
poem by Matthew Peel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Piece Of Myself... And For Myself
people in my place worry about me
why i do not worry about next year
the next planting season after this year's bumpy harvest where every room in the house is filled with corn.
people in my place ask me where shall i live after next year
and you should soon inherit the house that i built for 50 years.
they all worry about me with all those particular items like what shall happen
to the glasses in my cabinet
or the white car in my blue garage
or my gold watch and my silver spoons and my china plates
they worry about my gold fish in my aquarium
who shall feed them when i am no longer home
people worry a lot about me
and i begin sometimes when i get tired listening to all the questions
asking: why me? why do you worry all about me?
i am not even dead yet and have no plans retiring from life's works
like the arts and this
pottery and this poetry
people worry about me
and never about us.
i am tired and all i need is sleep.
and i do not worry at all.
because i know that if i am dead
then i am dead
and i do not ask for more
not even on extended dreams
not even on anything
perhaps they worry about me because they all worry about themselves
perhaps i am their mirror
or perhaps they think that with my behavior
i should not have lived
in the first place.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Insurrection
insurrection...
or just the pot boiling over,
the plant breaking through the gound,
the leaf bursting from the bud,
the wind breaking down the door.
light breaking through the darkness,
the body breaking free of bonds.
the spirit breaking from the body,
the truth breaking from the silence.
hope breaking from despair,
caring breaking from the calloused....
the individual breaking from the crowd.
the many breaking from the few,
the man breaking from enslavement.
the pot boiling over...
be careful!
you'll burn your hand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Guilt
You accuse them of guilt and theft,
Of worried statements and mild skill.
Your desks of wisdom are contained in a box,
A box is always full of statements that lock.
Guilty people are like thieves, often called flocks,
Called sheep that mutter why they cry.
The lambs are like sweetness, but only sheep,
Their habits will cause us to shun and speak.
This habit carried anxiety and absoluteness,
My habit is of worry for those in worry.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hear Me Out
Im sorry, baby. I didnt mean to do what I did.
I mean, it just happened so fast, you know?
I woke up out of the situation.
And I was like, mike, you dont even need to go out like this.
And thats why Im calling you, you know?
Just listen to me.
Hear me out, girl. hear me out, girl.
My apologies for breaking your heart.
Hear me out, girl. hear me out, girl.
My apologies for breaking your heart.
Ooh, at home all alone thinking to my self
What a fool I was for letting you go (letting you go).
If I could re-wind the hands of time,
Id take back every word that made you cry (dont cry).
I know I acted kind of crazy (I know I acted kind of crazy).
I need you now to understand me (please understand me).
Hear me out, girl. hear me out, girl.
My apologies for breaking your heart.
Hear me out, girl. hear me out, girl.
My apologies for breaking your heart.
Well, now is the time for us to realize how much we mean to each other, girl (to each other, girl).
Just dont walk away. thats much too easy.
Im begging you to stay (stay).
I know I acted kind of crazy (I know I acted kind of crazy).
I need you now to understand me (please understand me).
Hear me out, girl. hear me out, girl.
My apologies for breaking your heart. (you know Ill get down on my knees and say...)
Hear me out, girl. hear me out, girl.
My apologies for breaking your heart...
{fade--}
song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Over the Hump
Take your bumps and get those lumps,
Although some days you'll be grumpy.
You may also feel crunchy.
But you will get over the hump.
Take your medicine unsweetened,
It is suggested that you do.
Keep yourself from being beatened.
Or you will always feel screwed.
Why do you overwork and welcome ruin?
What is this that you're doing?
There's nothing you're improving!
Why do you overwork and welcome ruin?
What is this that you're doing?
There's nothing you're improving!
Take your bumps and get those lumps,
Although some days you'll be grumpy.
You may also feel crunchy.
But you will get over the hump.
Why do you overwork and welcome ruin?
What is this that you're doing?
There's nothing you're improving!
Take your medicine unsweetened,
It is suggested that you do.
Keep yourself from being beatened.
Or you will always feel screwed.
Why do you overwork and welcome ruin?
To feel crunchy?
What is this that you think that you are doing?
To feel grumpy?
What is it that you're seeking.
A beating that is treating? ? ?
Why do you overwork and welcome ruin?
To feel crunchy?
What is this that you think that you are doing?
To feel grumpy?
What is it that you're seeking.
A beating that is treating? ? ?
Take your medicine unsweetened,
It is suggested that you do.
Keep yourself from being beatened.
Or you will always feel screwed.
Why do you overwork and welcome ruin?
What is this that you're doing?
There's nothing you're improving!
Only you can keep yourself from feeling grumpy.
Only you can keep yourself from getting crunchy.
Only you can keep from doing,
What it is that keeps you screwed.
Only you can keep yourself from feeling grumpy.
Only you can keep yourself from getting crunchy.
Only you can keep from doing,
What it is that keeps you screwed.
You can get up off your rump.
You can get over the hump!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I were to sum up the negative reactions to my work, I think there are two primary causes: one is that if there is discourse about anxiety it is necessarily going to induce anxiety. It will represent a return of the repressed for a great many people.
quote by Harold Bloom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People Like You Just Don't Get It
People like you,
Just don't get it.
'Get what? '
Don't worry about it
If you had it you would know.
And...
Maybe you are right.
You once said,
The homeless and hungry...
Was a situation for those,
Who chose to be so.
You once said,
'There are jobs out there.
Those folks just don't want to work.
When 'I' was in that situation...
I walked down the road,
To ask my neighbor if I could pitch some hay...
To buy groceries and pay my 'mortgage'.
And my father and his father did the same thing.
Today...
People think they deserve more than that.'
People like you,
Just don't get it.
'Get what? '
Don't worry about it.
If you had it you would know.
And...
Maybe you are right.
Some people just bit off more than they could chew.
And if they had good credit like you...
None of them would be in the same predicament.
People like you,
Just don't get it.
'Get what? '
Don't worry about it.
What you don't know is intended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am certainly suffering from a modicum of performance anxiety.
quote by George Murray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anxiety of Fear
Though it only takes few seconds
It doesn’t make the burden in my heart
Less its weight
There’s always an unseen wall
That called fear
Fear of rejection
Fear of disappointment
Fear of out of control
Fear of unknown
Maybe it’s enough
Maybe it’s not enough
Maybe it’s should be enough
Maybe it’s never enough
Though I have confidence
Though I have lot experience
It doesn’t make my stomach not ache
Or my feet lighter
There’s always a cold feeling
That called anxiety
Anxiety of acceptance
Anxiety of failure
Anxiety of future
Anxiety of unreasonable
Maybe it’s right
Maybe it’s not right
Maybe it could be right
Maybe it won’t ever be right
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those Terms
Define those terms that need a distance,
They must be distant and far away from home.
Our language is made of those names,
We describe the worry and behaviour
As if the same name has erupted from a mountain.
I like only that talk that lifts one, that crept on my shoulder
From your mouth and uttered a mountain of anxiety.
I can not forget that even though I shrink from it,
And this is my worry of course, of hard belief.
poem by Naveed Akram
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I try not to worry about the future - so I take each day just one anxiety attack at a time.
quote by Tom Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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