Doubt

He creeps up on me quietly. Steals up behind me. I turn around, and there he is: the shadow of Doubt. I never see Doubt himself: I just hear his gleeful chuckle, I just see his shadow prancing around me, I just hear his footsteps - never too far from mine. I wonder why he never reveals himself completely, but plays this game of shadows and whispers.

I'm a child, I like my sunlight bright and pure: unclouded by shadow, I like my water cool and clear: unruffled by touch , I like my air soft and gentle: untouched by breath, I like my thoughts happy and free: untroubled by memories. But he follows, dodges my footsteps, and the harder I run, the faster he catches up. I'm a child: I like my life smooth and empty: the bright, new page of a colouring book. He fills up half the page with his own colours, and then leaves me struggling to fill the rest.