Yes, I Am a Fighter – Poem by Phurden Lepcha

Yes, I Am a Fighter

I am not fighting the world outside,
But the whispers that echo from deep inside.
Not fists, not fire, not swords I wield—
But truths I face and lies I peel.

I fight the drag of procrastination,
The tempting ease of hesitation.
I battle the comfort that kills my spark,
The cozy dark that fears the mark.

I fight the myth that I can’t be more,
The chains of thoughts I used to adore.
Prewritten scripts and borrowed fears,
I burn them down through silent tears.

I fight the high from hollow praise,
The group-think dopamine that sways.
I walk alone through noise and trend,
For truth is my compass—not the end.

I fight the ego that loves the sound,
Of knowing little yet shouting loud.
I fight the mind that seeks to prove,
Rather than learn, adapt, and move.

I fight the victim voice within,
That blames the loss, yet hides the win.
I fight the urge to point and cry,
When growth demands I try and try.

I fight the comfort of not being seen,
Where dreams dissolve in a safe routine.
I fight the doubt that grows like moss,
And cut it down at every cross.

I fight the disrespect I once gave,
To hearts around me, silent, brave.
Now I bow to presence, to stories untold,
To lives unshared, yet quietly bold.

Yes, I am a fighter—not of war,
But of the thoughts I must outgrow and outscore.
Not to conquer, but to rise,
With conscious breath and fearless eyes.

So when you ask me, “What makes you burn?”
It’s not the world—it’s my own turn.
To fight with love, with grit, with grace—
To meet myself, face to face.

—Phurden Lepcha