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Am I more afraidOf taking a chance andlearning I’m somebodyI don’t know, or of risking new territory,only to find I’m the sameold me? There is comfortin the tried and true.Breaking groundmight uncover a sinkhole,one impossible to climb outof. And setting sail inuncharted watersmight mean capsizing intoa sea monster’s jaws.Easier to turn my back onthese thingsthan to try tjem and fail.And yet, a whisper insistsI need to know if they are oraren’t integral to me.Status quo is a swamp.And stagnation is slow death.
