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Funny how those little
things
In our early childhood
years
Became life-altering
events
That frightened us to
tears.
Like the first day of
school
And not wanting to go.
Feeling sick in the
stomach
And hoping it would snow.
Getting stung by a honey
bee
On my baby finger
And running to mama
To get out the stinger.
Having to go to bed early
Being the youngest of
five.
Turning out the light
And running to bed with
fright.
Brothers told me
of a monster
Lurking under my bed
Just waiting to grab me
And then I knew I would be
dead.
Seeing a huge spider
And wanting to scream.
Oh, he's crawling on me
But it's only a dream.
Some fears were big.
Some fears were small.
When compared to today
They were nothing at all.
Today my fears
Are bigger than them all.
Fear of being hurt again
So I hide behind a wall.
When the children are gone
What will I do then
Stay at home all alone
And go to bed by ten.
Nothing under the bed now
Outgrown so long ago
Just the loneliness felt
inside
With no one to hold.
Perhaps when I'm sixty
These fears will be small
And when I look back
They will be nothing at
all.
Carol Barton © 2004
Carol's Poetry
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