Anxieties are fond of me,
They make sure,
To pay me visit,
And always without knocking the door.

They make me bite nails,
Crawling inside me like snails.
Just like an old trusted friend,
They don’t leave me for a second.

They have myriad shades,
Some are lighter, others are darker in hue.
My soul never fades,
Calmness is often a goal anew.

Though a lot of them aren’t good,
But a handful are blessings in disguise.
Causing me to think ahead in time,
About the faraway road, on which obstacles might lie.

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