Poem: Stress

Stress.
The subtle strangler.
It manifests itself in many ways.
A fabrication of the mind.
Sending cortisol coursing through our veins.

Life – so full of precious pressures.
So petty, so small, minute.
‘A busy life is a happy one.’
A lie disguised as truth.

Published by Natasha

Hey! I'm Natasha, I enjoy writing about my own and reading other people's experiences/perspectives about this crazy world we live in!

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