I am a tired mother —
too much on my platter.
Childcare to writing,
housework to earning.
I try to find peace
in art and nature.
But juggling can be rough,
and I often lose my temper.
torrent of yellings ensue,
makes me hate myself.
I asked my kid daughter,
“Am I a bad person?”
She replied, without pause,
“No chance — just overwhelmed.”
Such kind words —
like a soothing balm,
for my stressed soul,
not an iota of foul.
It restored my self-love,
and raised respect for her,
empathy is very precious.
With it, let's be generous.
About the Creator
Seema Patel
Hi, I am Seema. I have been writing on the internet for 15 years. I have contributed to PubMed, Blogger, Medium, LinkedIn, Substack, and Amazon KDP.
I write about nature, health, parenting, creativity, gardening, and psychology.
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More stories from Seema Patel and writers in Poets and other communities.
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Comments (1)
Not only is empathy magical, also your poem magical. Good luck.