What do I find myself to be

Called upon with expectations, requirements of another world

Finding fault that lies not inside but within the eyes of others

Staring, thinking, breathing my soul out as if I were a puppet

Why do you think I am this machine? Why are you demanding my acquiescence?

Life is what you make of it I’m told

Like my father, I am a terrible creator.

Categories: Modern Poetry

Tagged as: abnormal Joshua Mullenary life Poetry

abnormalvaverage

I'm a high school English teacher in Texas. I also hold degrees in radiography and radio and television broadcasting. Though I obtained certain knowledge and skills from my prior degrees, I do not currently use them.