A Primal Pandemic | Black Sheep Poetry

Those who pretend they don’t feel it are the first to be consumed.

Black Sheep Poetry is a weekly reflection along the lonely road away from collective chaos. Standing tall in a culture pushing us to make our individuality second to the group doesn’t just require intellectual strength, but emotional fortitude.

Share your black sheep moments with us. Write a poem and submit it to: submit@wetheblacksheep.com.

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A Primal Pandemic

A poison to hope
A virus to culture
Spread by the lure of security
And relief from uncertainty,
Fear is a primal pandemic.

Seeking only safety
Men become children 
And children become men
Who sell themselves cheap
For temporary relief.

What face could courage have
To those who’ve never seen it?
Who could know the line dividing relief
From peace
If they’ve never crossed it? 
Fear is a cunning killer 
because it hides in the familiar.

Never cured,
Fear lingers like a cancer
Growing or receding with every choice.
Those who pretend they don’t feel it 
Are the first to be consumed.

So I listen to my fear
And trust it like a liar. 
Fear gives the best advice
If you turn it upside down
And question the familiar.