I’ve been writing poetry as long as I can remember. I still own copies of poetry I wrote at eight years old, about fluffy bunnies and the sunshine. Despite this I have always held back from putting my writing on a public platform such as this. Partly because of the same self-doubt most creative people feel, but I think it also comes from a fear of how those I know will interpret what I have written.
For the most part a death will evoke more emotion in me than a birth, the story of someone who has been abused will likely inspire me more to write than one of someone saved. Maybe that means I am a dark person, I don’t know. What I do know is that some people then read what I have written and assume I have led a more unfortunate life than the children in Lemony Snicket’s series.
Not everything I write about is personal to me.
Sometime it is, but often I’m just a voice.
That being said, one of my favourite things about poetry is that it is open to individual interpretation so, although I have written this opening to protect myself from assumption, please read my poetry, enjoy it or hate it however you like.
Just remember, don’t believe everything you read.
Something far more truthful – and a lot funnier too (although is it hard to be funnier than some of these poems??) – is my blog, Baby Boys Rock. Check it out, hopefully you’ll enjoy my honest but lighthearted take on my motherhood. X