The Potty Mouth Granny

I refuse to live in fear—

to let shadows dictate my steps.

I refuse to dwell in pity,

to wear sorrow like second skin.

I refuse to let malice take root,

to poison the garden of my heart.

I refuse to worry about what is beyond my control, to let uncertainty grip my soul.

And I refuse to close the door to love—

even when it knocks gently,

even when it scares me.

I stand in the storm,

and still, I choose light.