The Cowardly Lion

“Color inside the lines,” they said.
She did. And she used every crayon in the box.
Their words stifled, built a rigid cage.
She wanted to rant, rattle, and bend the bars.
Escape.

Average. Ordinary. Stay inside the lines.

There was a school play–The Wizard of Oz.
She wanted to be the Cowardly Lion.
“Silly girl,” they said. “That’s a boy’s role.”
One for the most popular boy, of course.
She stood on the risers, a sad soprano, just another voice in the chorus.

Below average. Extraordinarily ordinary. Trapped inside the lines.

Always the good girl.
Yes, sir.
Ever the peacemaker.
The leggy wallflower.

Average. Ordinary. Stay inside the lines.

Then one day–quietly, carefully–she pushed the boundaries.
She found her voice.
She spoke out.
She learned to stand up for herself.

Average? Ordinary? What lines?

Inch by inch, she pushed forward.
More like the tortoise, less like the hare.
She stepped out of the comfort zone, crossed the line,
Grasped the golden medal.

She is the Cowardly Lion. She always was.
And she’s finally cracked the bars and left the cage.

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5 Comments

  1. Cowardly nothin’ 🙂 I love you!!

    Reply
  2. Wonderful, Blake!

    Reply
  3. I’ve been sitting with this for a few days trying to find an eloquent way to tell you just how much I love this. If you took out “leggy”, it could be me. It so hits home. Pierces actually. Brilliant.

    Reply
  4. Freaking awesome, Blake! Just perfect…like you.

    Reply
  1. A dose of courage for the cowardly lion | the dharma diva

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