Stresses

There's death upon the wall
the ivy has a brownish pall--
that dentist with the lilting drawl
has pulled the root so it will fall.

There's raging in the creek
an egg within a raven's beak
that shies from every jealous shriek
of one that won't reverse their cheek.

There's conflict we have found
in everything, hear the sound
and feel it in another round
of verse the hapless bards expound.