I put fear in my pocket
And ball it up like trash
Ready to throw it away
At the first wastebasket
I see
You see
Fear has long been
A conundrum to me
Exuded in my flesh
At best
To those who see
Me
As an enemy
The stereotypes
That play
In stereo
Resounding unanimously
To the beat of the drum
The world pounds in my ears
But I pretend that I just
Don’t hear it
It’s all noise to me
The noise of fear
Fear being calamity
That spins in the minds
Of those who choose
Not to think on their fears
Not to question
Not to reflect on
Where their fears stem from
Or how illogical their fears are
Or how far they elapse
From the roots of wisdom
Or even common sense
When you pause to look at
Our history in America
Seems like I’d have more to fear
Than any depiction you’d make
Of me
Or decree to be
A central part of me
The truth is,
I know who I am
So I keep fear
Crumpled up in my pocket
And await the moment
I pass a garbage can
So I can purge fear once and for all
And try not to make any reprimands…