My greatest fear
My greatest fear
is to be brave, and yet
I am just that
every day.
I fear to be
brave,
to do what others tell me not.
to seek a simple solution
to flee this spot, this in-between
where safety forgone and I refuse to hide,
to follow routine,
and instead to where it is wrong for me
to be
brave
and listen to the voice which lives inside.
This place I seek, I think, called freedom
is a place I wish to return,
yet I’m meek, I think, my tongue
is the only one to yearn.
I fear to be
brave,
but I know it is in me!
I do all I can for others to see,
to believe I am more than I do,
to know I am more than I say…
That is come the day for me
to be
brave
and listen
to that voice with too much to say,
that which says you fear the thing you yearn.
I tell her:
I wish to leave, to run away, to die,
yet I fear to be so brave
to try.
I ask her:
I don’t wish to be, to stay, yet why
do I fear to live
to try?
it is the hardest thing in the world to be brave,
and it (should) be the easiest in the world to leave…
Yet if you wish to be, to stay, then why?
Is it so much harder to be so brave?
I tell her: simply being is being brave.
To my surprise, she tells me that, too.
My greatest fear
is to
Be,
yet I am brave (I knew it!)
and I choose to be
every day.