Stress

When things in life do overwhelm
And everything you second guess,
You are no longer at the helm –
You’re first mate on the S.S. Stress.

Bombarded by a storm at sea,
You’re battered and cannot progress;
The gods ignore your paltry plea –
You aren’t on their list to bless.

No matter whence your problems come,
What counts is that they do oppress;
And you will grab at any crumb,
Succumbing to a false caress.

For friends’ and relatives’ advice
May help to make your anguish less;
But often you will pay a price
When inner fears you do express.

The life preservers may appear
Accessible to ease distress,
But often it’s not very clear
If you’ll reach safety with success.

It may be tempting to decide
To jump ship if you don’t possess
Somebody who is qualified
To help your worries to regress.

But if you find a kindred soul
To be supportive, more or less,
You’ll hopefully regain control
And rise above the day’s duress.

The sea may not return to calm -
I cannot lie with real finesse;
But having help may be the balm
To soothe you in the midst of mess.

So grab that life vest with full force
And change all negatives to yes;
And set sail on a different course,
Where you won’t need an S.O.S.