In me is a tension that keeps me up at night,
Preventing restful sleep and pleasant dreams.
It eases when I move and write.
Left alone? It bursts at the seams.
It cannot go unchecked, it cannot be ignored,
Because the gripping tension looks to spread.
So I fight with shield, and sword,
Because I need peace instead.
What if you win? What if you come out on top?
What has it taught you as you move ahead?
That few things in this life just stop,
But may come back, I said.
I am stronger than you, old foe,
And soon, it’ll be time for you to go
The Pent Up Poet 
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