Claire Kroening

Worries We Shouldn’t Have

A head overfilled of pollution;
of the world crumbling
below one’s feet,
smog cutting ties in
every waking breath–
that could very well
be one’s last.
 
Two a.m. alarms sound
a countdown to adulting,
to long-houred shifts where life
is forever missed.
 
Beating around the bush
for college applications,
internships, tours;
yet shattered by the weight
of impending debt.
 
Around us, stars combust
while oceans and ecosystems
bear the accumulating deaths;
bear the unending stress
that freedom doesn’t come easy
in the land of the free.