This poem took all day to finish... mainly because I left the house for quite a while in the middle of it.
(On courage)
We tell children to be
big boys and girls as
if being an adult had
anything to do with being
brave.
What things I could achieve
if I were unaware of
mistakes and felt no boredom
because everything was new and
wonderful.
What a good person I
could be if I knew
nothing of wit or poise,
but only wanted to learn
from others and be with
others.
What I would give to
have the youthful insolence to
love everyone I meet and
care for them without condition.
Yet how frightening it is
to attempt all these things
as a supposedly brave adult.
