Written 11 March 2021

The Wizard of Oz

Is so often what I see

When it comes to my writing

In comparison with me

Hidden safely in the sanctity

Of my emerald room

I feverishly pen

My feelings that consume

This is what I think!

This is what I know!

But when it comes to real life

Where does my bravery go?

If I see something wrong

That upsets me to the core

If children’s feelings are hurt

If they are left a bit raw

The rage inside me

Is so hard to contain

But where is my courage

To point out the child’s pain?

I simply freeze up

My words are gone

It pisses me off

Why do I get this so wrong?

“Stop being such a bloody coward!

You’re a grown adult

If you never take action

You’ll never see a result!”

I’m so desperate to be the change

I’m so longing to see

But you can’t be change

If you live behind a screen

I realise that this anxiety

Has been with me since a child

Always secretly anxious

Never wanting to be reviled

Never really feeling

I was entitled to my own voice

Decide my own feelings

Make my own choice

*********

So, I’m back at home

It’s now the end of the day

I took back some power

Said (a little) of what I needed to say

I may not be at the stage

Where my words freely flow

Where I can stand up confidently

And tout what I think and know

But when I get triggered

I reflect

I become slowly more aware

The next time it happens

I’m a wee bit more prepared

It’s like I need the space

To simply rehearse in my head

But sometimes I actually

Do get the words said

So I’m not the cowardly wizard

ALL of the time

I find myself getting braver

Each time I write a rhyme

I stand a little taller

I can almost feel my muscles flex

As I create the space

To quietly reflect

Present in the moment

In the here and now

But I’m writing this

As my solemn vow