Worry

I'm scrolling through memories
A brain album of man as baby
When life was simple and smile was easy
When peace was cliché and nothing to worry
When skin was fragile and sleep was bliss
Baby turns boy, worry nips in
But that in itself was struggle for acceptance
Of peer pressure and self recognition
of new new discoveries, erection of talents
Of making mistakes and learning new skills

And yet short lived, boy evolves to man
From listening to daring, quiet to touting
Fragile turned pale, freshness now sour
Smooth now hairy, Innocence feels guilty
Pouting red eye.
Peace now a struggle, sleep is an effort
A bit of amnesia, a lot to worry

And so I realize, fear!
That's the worst of it
Constantly branding worry as the medicine
That there's no peace and freedom is far-fetched
So in Walter's words, I'll gladly quote

'I have spent my whole life scared, frightened of things that could happen, might happen, might not happen. 50 years I spent like that, finding myself awake at 3 in the morning, but you know what, ever since my diagnosis, I sleep just fine. And I came to realize it's that fear that’s the worst of it. That’s the real enemy, so get up, get up in the real world and you kick that bastard as hard as you can right in the teeth. '