Unexpected Expectations

A tiny voice asks me 'what do you provide?'

I answer with nothing

The voice will taunt, scorn, and mock

Useless, it says. You believe your writing is good enough to provide.

There is no money coming in and even less going out.

Now I may speak

I am providing. I have a job. And my writing will be success enough for me.

The voice sneers 'it's not enough. It doesn't take the burden off of their needs. You must care for everyone.'

I was to care for everyone? Why me? No.

  is not my job I tell it. I am the only person I need to take care of right now.

Myself. Just me.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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