The Needle of Worry

If Desire is a knife

Then Worry, most surely

Is a finely crafted needle.

In between the fibers,

The material of your soul,

The needle subtly shifts,

With the power to make you whole.

But if it has the power to mend,

Then surely, and as an opposite,

The needle may also bend.

It will distort your thoughts,

Your feelings, your emotions.

It will rock your world,

With finely crafted illusions.

It is an oasis,

In a sea of glistening sand.

It is a chance of rescue,

With a fully extended hand.

Your hopes are raised,

Your disbelief is shattered.

Your walls are down,

As if that even mattered.

Worry is an lie,

A trifling, disturbing thought.

It latches onto your mind,

And it seldom lets go.

It is a parasite,

To be crushed under a stamping,

Stomping, crushing heel.

It is a traitor,

Changing how you feel.

Was there really even a problem?

Who can even say.

Remember to enjoy life,

And take it day by day.