TREPIDATION
If I were a poet,
I'd fear words failing me.
If I could sing,
I'd cower at losing my voice.
If I were a dancer,
I'd dread losing a limb.
But here I am,
with nothing; no need to be afraid,
Still, trepidation courses through my veins,
Setting my nerves ablaze.
What do I owe the displeasure to?
I question every little thing that troubles me
And ultimately end up questioning myself
Because, at last, am I not the cause of my own agony?
Why do I even need to be afraid?
Even if my demise is tomorrow
What is it that I'm so afraid of losing?
With these thoughts in mind,
Shouldn't I be living as free as a bird?
But here I am with foreboding angst outlaid.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAA! this one hits home. The words are so accurate. Thanks bb for speaking my thoughts. 🎈
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