To tiptoe through life,
Not taking up space,
Not entering the race,
Not claiming your place,
Afraid of disgrace.
What a tragic waste.
Fear of the limelight,
Hide behind the scenes,
Burying your dreams,
Stifling your screams,
Still writing reams.
Invisible by no means,
But feeling unseen.
To avoid making waves,
Tread ever so lightly,
Holding on tightly,
Speaking politely,
Pray to the almighty.
Still, moving so slightly,
ripples are likely.
Stop editing yourself,
To meet others’ favour,
A thankless endeavour,
People-pleasing behaviour.
Show up as yourself,
In all your bright glory,
Cheering on, celebratory,
Fully participatory,
Self-explanatory,
Congratulatory.
Rewrite the story,
The ending’s all yours.
🌻
Today is my birthday. I dedicate this poem to my Mum and Dad, and to all my ancestors and spirit guides, without whom I wouldn’t be here
💛
To The Core 