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
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.