Brave Face:
A poem written by Hilary Platt, Easter Sunday 2025. This was my first ever poem having never written a poem since school and I’m now 60. It came to me in under 20 minutes whilst pondering the recent lumpectomy and the result that it hadn’t been enough and now needed mastectomy. I’ve been an expert at ‘ the brave face’ since childhood but have needed it a lot more lately. I hope it may help others to accept that it’s normal and it’s hard. But sometimes being honest with others and opening up can be the best way forward.
I have a brave face
but nobody knows
I keep it so safe
but sometimes it shows
I have a brave face
I need for myself
I keep it well hidden
in my inner self
I don’t like to use it but
I know that it’s wrong
to put all my cares out
like words to a song
I keep my brave face
to mask all my fears
to hide from the truth
and to cover the tears
I save it for best
Now that isn’t true
I save it for worst
When my soul is askew
I like my brave face
with it’s wrinkles and all
been with me forever
through pain large and small
I think no one sees
that brave face of mine
despite that it’s with me
most of the time
I love my brave face
it’s creases and lines
it’s me on the inside
the truth of my time
I share my brave face
for others to see
I wish that they knew
it just isn’t me
I don’t need my brave face
As I age and renew
it can wait on the shelf
my fears are for you
I’ll keep my brave face
it’s not needed somehow
it can be with my heart
that is flourishing now
I’ve seen your brave face
and believe me it’s true
you can put it away
and let you be You
🩷