This is for fear

This poem is a reminder to always try to do the thing you think you cannot.

This is for fear
The smallest and loudest voice in the room
For the woman of squeamish temper and kick me in the face grin
For the man with his billows of flesh, slicked hair and unquenchable thirst
The ones with many partners and tears in their eyes
The girl with her bags packed and no place to go
To those with their heads in books
To the flunks, the dismal drunks, the girl in pumps:
You're all the same, with your masks of importance, your haggard smiles
Remember that chances unmet make monsters of beds unkept,
That there's not much to separate yang from yin
Just a part that's colored in
And those who turn their backs to the dark
Are forever blinded to the spark
Created to fill the intermittent abyss
In it's pace and because of it