I want to write a poem that speaks courage.
I want people to see that I'm not afraid of their
daunting judgment, or the cascading looks they
pass my way. I want to climb this dark mountain in
front of me without a single gasp for air, or without
any struggle. That's what courage is. To me, courage
is the back-burner flame of a stove that keeps an entire
house warm. It is the sleek black dress in the back of
my closet I only wear on special occasions. When I
want to look like I have all the confidence in the world,
I throw in a splash of courage, because God knows I
wouldn't be able to do anything without some of it.
I want to write a poem about how so many people
have forgotten what their courage looks like. My courage
is a vibrant shade of red, it's the lacquer I paint my lips
with when I want to look like I own the very ground I walk
on. Some people have courage with shades of blues and
purples, hidden under their exterior of shyness and dull
standby attitudes. They don't want to be seen in the front light,
and that's okay. But when they've forgotten how to say no and
stand up for themselves because they've let everyone walk all
over them like the welcome mat to their glass house, there's a
problem. Their bluesy and matte-colored courage sees the rocks
these people carry, but doesn't say anything and stands by as they
throw the stones at the glass walls. Some people's courage is a
vibrant and overbearing yellow, golden like the sun they aim to reach
for. These people have enough courage to do anything, and by anything
I mean they're willing to go the extremes without thought or cares.
These people can be dangerous. See, I had a friend who's courage
was such an eye-piercing yellow that she had enough of it to kill
herself without a second thought of the repercussions for those
who loved her. Her bright, uncontrolled courage to be away from
this world caused the rest of us to take a step back, afraid to be brave.
Bright courage is both a blessing and curse. I understand that my
reference may not relate to a majority, but this is my courage taking a
step out to tell you something that should be talked about more often.
I want to write a poem that speaks about how courage can leave a person
and leave them hollow. I know this pain. My courage has left and came
back so many times, but every time it returns it's like the returning of a
prodigal son. It's a celebration I've felt so many times, like the birthday
party of a happy-go-lucky kid without the stress of what their pastel
pink courage might become. It's young, and fresh, and without any scars.
It's the opposite of its owner. I am banged and bruised up
from all the times I've left my house without any courage
to fall back on, no security blanket, no safety net. I'm on this
tightrope of life, swaying back and forth looking for balance,
and my courage is like the umbrella high above my head, keeping
me from falling off the side. My courage is reason I can do many
things, but it's also the reason I know when to just be still.
I want to write a poem that speaks courage because I believe in our
generation, we've forgotten what real courage is. We've been told
our whole lives to look pretty but don't cause a mess, don't stir
the old pot anymore because the people, oh their fragile hearts
couldn't take being shown the truth. I get on social media everyday
and see a rainbow of courage, colors being thrown around as our
generation finally stands up for themselves. We're making ourselves
known. And to me, this is beautiful. This is courage.
I want people to see that I'm not afraid of their
daunting judgment, or the cascading looks they
pass my way. I want to climb this dark mountain in
front of me without a single gasp for air, or without
any struggle. That's what courage is. To me, courage
is the back-burner flame of a stove that keeps an entire
house warm. It is the sleek black dress in the back of
my closet I only wear on special occasions. When I
want to look like I have all the confidence in the world,
I throw in a splash of courage, because God knows I
wouldn't be able to do anything without some of it.
I want to write a poem about how so many people
have forgotten what their courage looks like. My courage
is a vibrant shade of red, it's the lacquer I paint my lips
with when I want to look like I own the very ground I walk
on. Some people have courage with shades of blues and
purples, hidden under their exterior of shyness and dull
standby attitudes. They don't want to be seen in the front light,
and that's okay. But when they've forgotten how to say no and
stand up for themselves because they've let everyone walk all
over them like the welcome mat to their glass house, there's a
problem. Their bluesy and matte-colored courage sees the rocks
these people carry, but doesn't say anything and stands by as they
throw the stones at the glass walls. Some people's courage is a
vibrant and overbearing yellow, golden like the sun they aim to reach
for. These people have enough courage to do anything, and by anything
I mean they're willing to go the extremes without thought or cares.
These people can be dangerous. See, I had a friend who's courage
was such an eye-piercing yellow that she had enough of it to kill
herself without a second thought of the repercussions for those
who loved her. Her bright, uncontrolled courage to be away from
this world caused the rest of us to take a step back, afraid to be brave.
Bright courage is both a blessing and curse. I understand that my
reference may not relate to a majority, but this is my courage taking a
step out to tell you something that should be talked about more often.
I want to write a poem that speaks about how courage can leave a person
and leave them hollow. I know this pain. My courage has left and came
back so many times, but every time it returns it's like the returning of a
prodigal son. It's a celebration I've felt so many times, like the birthday
party of a happy-go-lucky kid without the stress of what their pastel
pink courage might become. It's young, and fresh, and without any scars.
It's the opposite of its owner. I am banged and bruised up
from all the times I've left my house without any courage
to fall back on, no security blanket, no safety net. I'm on this
tightrope of life, swaying back and forth looking for balance,
and my courage is like the umbrella high above my head, keeping
me from falling off the side. My courage is reason I can do many
things, but it's also the reason I know when to just be still.
I want to write a poem that speaks courage because I believe in our
generation, we've forgotten what real courage is. We've been told
our whole lives to look pretty but don't cause a mess, don't stir
the old pot anymore because the people, oh their fragile hearts
couldn't take being shown the truth. I get on social media everyday
and see a rainbow of courage, colors being thrown around as our
generation finally stands up for themselves. We're making ourselves
known. And to me, this is beautiful. This is courage.
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