My Climb

a poem

I try to climb.

With each step I tremble with fear

That the next will be my last

The higher I go, the more I fear

Not always of falling,

But of what will happen

When I get to the top

I can’t wait for it to be over,

For everything to be easy again,

For the wild storm around me to cease

Is it of any use to complain, I ask.

What is going to happen will happen

I can’t change that.

But I’m wrong.

I get distracted, and with a quiet cry

I fall.

At the bottom again,

I am far below the storm

But I can see it above me

I know I have to pass through it

To get where I want to be.

I’m discouraged.

That’s when hope whispers

“Try it one more time”

I take a feeble step upwards

Then another, then another

I’m almost to the storm.

Fear tells me to give up, to not even try

That it’s better to stay where I am

That my dream isn’t worth it.

That I'm not good enough to keep my grip.

I almost listen.

Then hope tells me,

How do I know I’m not good enough,

If I don’t give myself the opportunity to be good?

The storm howls

Debris all around me

Rain splashing my face,

Blending in with my tears

Then, suddenly

The sun shines again.

I made it.

I am the one that decides my future.

I am the one that decides what will happen.

It’s up to me.

Life is never easy,

But how do we become sharper tools

Without something to sharpen us?

The End

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