Scared and Anxiety

By Priyanshi Baraiya

There was a girl named Anne,

Jittery, scared—she always ran.

Ate her lunch beneath the sun,

Alone, withdrawn, away from the fun.

One day, our hands met, entwined.

Cold and clammy, hers like mine.

Embarrassed, I said, "I am scared."

She smiled and quipped, "Well, I'm anxiety—always prepared."

Since then, we've been a restless pair:

Scared and anxiety, a duo rare.

Sweaty palms and hearts that race,

Forever cocooned in our safe space.

By Priyanshi Baraiya