We've all felt it 
The pressure that plants
Bombs in our heads and turns
Our minds askew.

Some perform well under
Pressure, and some crack.

Tempers sometimes flare,
As blood begins to boil

For some, the bottle
Is an easy escape
From the pain.

The next morning, it
Comes back to haunt them,
And the vicious circle
Feeds itself.

Some turn to hobbies
For escape -- straining
Eyes and rock-steady hands
Building a detailed miniature
Piece by piece.

Some become criminals
As animal aggression
Bubbles to the surface
And compassion dies.

Child abuse is provoked
By it, as parents slap
A crying child down...

The legacy continues,
As they hand down the
Pain their parents
Dealt them.

Some turn to artificial
Euphoria -- drugs the ticket
For a razor-ride to heaven
And hell.

Stress can destroy,
Yet is may also be a
Catalyst... creating
Something out of fear.

The driving force behind
Success -- motivation to
Keep struggling on.

On to the other side...

Beyond fear and darkness
To a beautiful place
Where hope never dies,

And dreams are reality.
  
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