It takes a lot to know
what’s right
to let others in
when solitude fits this
shoe.
It takes a lot
when night looms
endless
as a stopped clock
not to be afraid.
When the quiet overtakes
me, myself and I,
it takes a lot to face the
facts
to know what’s right
to ask for help,
to pave the way and be brave
to be in your bedtime
prayers.
I don’t want to be brave
I don’t want to be there.
Linked to the poetry garden and the Tuesday Platform. I've never been good at reading on stage, knees get wobbly and the podium shakes. It's easier here.