Risk

This poem was painted on the basement walls of St. Leo’s Soup Kitchen in Detroit:

To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out to another is to risk involvement.
To express feelings is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your ideas and dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To hope is to risk despair.
To try is to risk failure.
Those who risk nothing do nothing, 
have nothing, are nothing. They are slaves.
Only a person who risks is free.

Thanks, Jasmine, for posting this!

2 Replies to “Risk”

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