
How today’s stress is tomorrow’s rain
I stumbled across a rain mack
That I wasn’t ready to acknowledge
Whether I liked it or not, rain it did
Locked away for a season
Yet winter blues continued to reign
Not one thing made sense but
The disquieting feeling that strange
Had just become stranger
With professional stress merchants
Selling a condition Grandma would call for Mercy
But it wasn’t grandma I missed in this stress tout
It is the self that had to grasp reality
The 3D physical reality that had changed
With masks and social distancing
As stress became the new format
Depression followed in a shadow
Yet every news report continued to feed the beast
No wonder the rain mack is yet to rest
Least the spring blossoms change the eaves
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