You've got  to work hard at school,

Everyone used to say,

It's your future, You tool,

Leave me alone, get away.

Growing up,

Chaos, Anxiety was the norm of the day,

Working out what I wanted to do when I got older,

No way.

Sport became my salvation,

To escape from it all,

Boxing, fighting, and Running,

Stopped the fall.

When the time came,

To choose my career for life,

Teaching was an option,

No way, too much stress and strife.

Looking around at what to do,

My father says

"Get a trade".

What, just like you !

Time ticked by,

Jobs came and went,

My career was going no where,

I felt quite spent.

A mixture of careers,

Army, Self-employed, and Property,

Was all thrown into the mix,

Last of all, writing, became my prosperity.

I lose myself,  for hours on end,

Its not about the money, 

Crime, Fantasy, Sex and Violence,

My niche,  my creativity.

Stories are the structure,

Give meaning to my day,

Words are the tools,

That help me feel fulfilled, focus, Yay