We are only afraid
Whilst we are living
We are locked in a room
From which there is no escape
And the winter closes in;
A bird sings bravely
Against the numbing cold
A worm turns the earth, unseen
Whilst we rage against luck
Or lament missed opportunities;
In a hole in the mortar
A bee is burrowing
A tree branch, moss-greened
Waits patiently
More patiently than us;
We are only afraid
Whilst we are living -
The meadow-sop wets our feet
As we trudge through
To nowhere.
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Author:
Paul Gerard Reed (
Offline) - Published: November 18th, 2025 13:21
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments1
Such a true statement that we are only afraid while we are living. Nicely done
Dear Sorenbarrett, thank you for your comments on this and other poems. I am honoured to receive them, Best wishes, Paul.
You are most welcome Paul
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