Living in fear
To live in fear is a terrible thing.
You can see it in a face, hear it in a voice,
feel it, like and invisible blanket, stifling thought
until the only safe place is at home
and you only go out when you really must.
But why does fear survive
when there are only ideas to fear?
When there is no event, person or place to point to
and say: “It is that, which chills my heart.”
Television, newspapers and the internet,
they tell us, if not to fear,
then at least that frightful things
are bound to come.
I want to stand against fear,
shake my fist in the air and shout:
“My life will not be ruled by you!”
But a quiet voice in my head whispers:
“What if it is ruled by the fears of others?”