My Fear Of Other People Poem by James McLain

I fear the eyes of strangers cold,
The ones that meet but never hold,
They seem to judge my smallest ways,
In silent scorn they leave me dazed.

Yet still I trust, like children do,
Believing hearts are soft and true;
For every wound, a whispered balm,
I find in quiet words of calm.

But what if love, that soft embrace,
Is only their mask and fleeting grace?
The good we do, the right we seek,
Can falter when our trust is weak.

Ethics rise, a beacon clear,
Yet often stumble under fear;
The moral light, like stars above,
Still begs the question—can we love?

And so, I tremble, standing still,
At the sharp edge of others' will.
But in my soul, a hope persists,
That goodness blooms when fear resists.