She

Something I wrote some time ago when my anxiety started rearing its ugly head again.

She hates the fear that whispers in her ear.

She hates the lies she knows she hears.

She walks, head held high.

If you look closely, you may see her cry.

She has born life, now she bears strife.

She is balanced on the edge of a knife.

She holds on everyday, and hopes she'll be okay.

When she lets the fear in she thinks she will die.

Until she sees herself in her children's eyes.

And although unsure if she will ever win.

She takes a deep breath and tries again.

Reviews

[Daniel DeLorez]

There's something empowering about being a parent. Our children give us a reason to keep on going, no matter what. That's the theme I'm seeing here, and it's one that I can relate to very much.

Good poem. Thank you.