Writing is in my Heart

If I could turn and walk a different way,

Perhaps I’d skip the loans, the endless climb.

Choose steady work, where effort meets its pay,

Not chase a craft uncertain with its time.

But still, my heart belongs to written art,

Its voice too loud to quiet or ignore.

This passion keeps me whole, it is my part,

Though earnings small, it offers something more.

Now, as a mother, my ambitions shift—

My daughter’s smile, my reason to endure.

For her, I’ll build a life, a lasting gift,

A future strong, unwavering, and pure.