1200 630 poetnari

Fear is so sure I am only pretending to be successful,

That I’m sitting on the wrong chair in this table called life

Eating off a plate full of coincidences

A random dish of assorted things happening to me

By good luck or bad karma

Don’t have expectations he said, you’ll only get hurt he said

Just live by the bare minimum

And Draw as little attention to yourself

So that if you fail, at least it was private…

Fear says he wants what’s best for me

But I’m starting to think he’s a pathological liar

It’s how he walks me into the museum of my mistakes

So, I can revisit, recycle and rehearse my regrets

convincing me to hate where I was, question where I am

And faint at the mere mention of where I will be

And is it just me or does Fear always have us looking without and never within

It’s like being enough is a concept he says is external

yet he himself doesn’t have a physical body – he’s leveraging on mine

You see as a spirit fear knows how to live from the inside out

That’s why he expresses himself first, inside our heads

And not as the boogyman under our beds

So why does he, speak to me, about life

With things I can see with my naked  eyes but never with God’s eyes

Fear does not reason with faith

In his religion- He is god

Oh and Get this Fear demands that I ask for permission to try something new

But you know what’s funny? he will always say no when I ask him

Fear believes in me but in small measure

He says he protects me from my hopeful nature

Because being optimistic = (equals) being naïve and unrealistic

Fear  keeps me from the delivery room

when I’m just about to give birth to something

Does that sound familiar you?

The more time we spend with him the more we  labor in vain

He was the allaby in the crime scenes of our aborted dreams

Give me a minute so I can add “murderer” to his criminal record this guy is a disease

Fear makes time my enemy

Saying you don’t have the time to change

You will not finish in good time

You’re already too far behind

Look at how far everyone else is

Do you really want to do this

Aren’t you too old for it?

Fear..  Talking about

How I was born his type of way, live his type of way to only die his type of way

Fear-I am not your type

let go of my heel,

I am not Eve-  you will not drag me behind

I am Born of God-  kin to the second Adam- you leave my heel the hell alone

Courage and bravery suit me everywhere I go

The bag that I’ve packed

That’s missing your set of clothes

Is the one I love to carry the most

So Take your seat in the back of the vehicle please

This engine is about to kick in at full speed

And know this

I am committed  my growth no matter how slow

Click below to view this poem’s performance


Leave a Reply