fear poem

Tue, 03/19/2019 - 23:37 -- mtahe01

I'm afraid of the dark, of public speaking

Of dying alone, of those awkward greetings. 

I'm afraid of looking dumb, there's so much to overcome. 

I’m afraid of being mugged, that I’ll never find true love. 


I’m afraid that my dad will wake up one morning and says he’s had enough

Leaves us alone and ruined for life

And that I will end up like one of those bums that you find on the street corner

Just asking for some spare quarters.


You see, no matter how old I get

I can't seem to loosen the grip of fear from my lips. 

I used to have a stutter and a lisp. 

I mean for years my S's would repeat and sound like thith 

And it was so embarrassing that to this day it

Plays a much bigger emphasis on my life than I care to admit.


My mind just can't seem to forget 

The not too silent diss from the kids in middle school 

Saying “silly Mahshad spit it out”

“she sounds like porky the pig with a sponge in her mouth.” 

Soaking up all the S syllables as I would stumble over my words 

Until I would just stop speaking so my stutter wouldn’t be heard

And I know that may sound absurd


But I used to think that I was just this little girl

Whose throat swelled up in interviews for fear that stuttering is not what winners do

I don’t know what happened but 

As the years went by

My stutter became less 

As if with a magical power 

I came to have more control over it


I realized that I shouldn’t be afraid, 

Because there’s no one who can break you.

No one who can take you.

No one who can shake you.

Because the one who created you

Is bigger than all of that.


He's bigger than all of your fears. 

From those years, and those tears 

From crying on your pillow because you just wanted to be normal. 

But God doesn’t use those that are normal. 

He uses those who are willing, willing to be themselves.


So Be you. The individual. 

Not the you that you've pieced together from magazine models

Or Nicholas Sparks novels. Be You.


The uniquely created, special and sacred individual. You.


The one with experiences, opinions and beliefs, 

The things that make you unique. 

Your scars share them.

Your broken hearts wear them 

Don't let others critical remarks, pierce you in the arms like barbs 

That hold you back from being you. Stay true to being you.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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