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Sometimes I’m Afraid
Of sleepless nights, of tiring days
Of bitter cold and sweltering heat
Of disordered symbols, of bad choices of words
Of disdainful glances, of turned up noses,
Of crumbling foundations, Of a world gone mad

But then I remember someone I knew
She seemed frail, but her voice was a hurricane
She seemed small, but her soul was a vast ocean
She could spit poetry or blinding venom
But I most often saw her with a gentle smile
And I remember that she sang
Who’d a thunk she sang?
Well it’s something which I thunk about
Ever since I heard her do it

When I think of her I realize
My fears are shadow puppets and paper tigers
While I still have legs I best keep walking
While I still have fingers I best keep writing