Scared of falling in the leaves.
Afraid to feel the open air.
My inner soul difficult to appease
As my outer self fills with dread and despair,
Seeing others live on with their lives.
Feeling as if I’m always in fight-or-flight.
Being jealous as another thrives
While the end of anxiety is nowhere in sight.
But part of me always fills with hope
That this won’t always be the status quo.
To finally overcome anxiety and not mope.
That shall be the end of this woe.
After such, I can finally fall in the leaves without fear.