A poem for my self-doubt

Doubt is the opposite of faith

and often has double the strength.

It wheedles, it whines, it stretches my nerve

from width to depth to length.

Doubt is the enemy of hope

and stamps on my self-belief.

It taxes my time, my gut, my soul.

It’s nothing but an insidious thief.

Doubt is the victor at night

as an unfulfilled day draws dark.

But it’s no match for a shiny new morning,

full of light and love and spark.

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