Fear the feeling of difference

You were offered something bright and shiny, it wasn’t Gold

But never were you told it was, just that it meant a new horizon

Where the pot of Gold and more, lay yours for the taking.

Your head told you lies, that you couldn’t do it alone, alone, alone,

That word tolled like a bell in your head, clanging out the possibility of future

Dully moving away, thankfully saying no to the changes

The words the bell kept saying, “fear the feeling of difference, fear it well,

you cannot be different, “

and you nodded, swallowing the words whole, drinking the pain

Bitter you’re told, because it has to be when you try and think of change.

Now drink your medicine, ease those endless thoughts if you just drink,

close, close, close your mind to future. Cut off your chances.

If you’re standing still, statue like, you don’t need to fear the feeling of difference.

Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic. A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not. I’m pleased you dropped by, please feel free to leave me a comment or if you’re kind enough to share that’s fine. ☺️ View all posts by ailsacawley