The Fear

THE FEAR

I have the fear,
But I’m not running around, yelling,
“I have the fear!”
It is a quiet fear
centered in the pit of my stomach.
Sometimes it bubbles up
when I remember who caused the fear
(it was not me)
and I think of the consequences
and of the future
and I realize the fear is real
and I have it,
and at that point
the fear becomes panic
and I might say something.
But usually I don’t.
Why foist my fear on others?
I’m supposed to be helping them
with their own fear.
But sometimes I can’t help it
when the fear rises,
and I’ll say something
that’s not nice
to the people I should be nice to.

–Thaddeus Rutkowski


Poetry Writing

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