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Fear wears a different face each day.
Sometimes it’s deadlines or bills to pay.
Sometimes it’s sickness or being alone.
Sometimes it comes by letter or phone.
Sometimes it comes on the six o’clock news.
Often it tells me how much I can lose.
The face of the fear is never the same.
But the fact is, the face is just part of the game.
For when I face not the face but the fear
I feel every frightening face disappear.
And once that I know it’s a game, I don’t run
And facing my fears is becomes part of the fun.
©Patricia Rose Grigadean, 1988