A poem about stressed, young people and the pressure lying on their shoulders.

As a young person I always gotta worry,
I’m always in a hurry
and the days can get so blurry.
I have to sell myself, reach my cell and tell myself,
That I always have to be the best I can,
And that I have to grow up and become a man.
Why do I always meet this stress?
I recently have become a mess!
All I can focus on is the simple word “Success”,
It’s not always easy to be young, I must confess.
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