By Ashley O’Hare
When I trust my gut,
They call me a fool.
How could I follow a sixth sense
Blindly like a complete and utter tool?
Sometimes we cannot explain everything—
Try as we might.
We cannot describe our feelings,
So we fight and we fight and we fight.
If I did not trust myself,
I would be driven insane.
Blind faith or not,
I need to know more than my own name.
Whether they believe me or not,
I have stopped caring.
Maybe I do take the easy way out—
I never claimed to be daring.
Go on and laugh if you want,
But my gut has never been wrong.
You’ll understand one day;
The truth comes out all day long.