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Aug 2018
The inner workings of my mind,
I always try hard to be kind.
Smile at my haters,
chat to my friends.
A sense of anxiety that never ends.

Do the school run and then home to make,
see what items I can create.
The orders flood in thick and fast,
how long will this madness last.

Reality is, It's more a steady trickle,
but each time an order comes in
I feel my heckles prickle.

"But this is what you wanted"
I hear my mother say.
Yes, but not to be alone all day.

"To be your own boss and have time to make"
Yes Mum, but I feel like a fake,
Why would people want to buy the items that I create.
My first ever poem as an adult
Written by
MrsP  33/F
(33/F)   
334
 
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