I stand between my many forms

As they all converge upon my head

A chapter left undone

While the laundry yells my name

A chattering wife

Ignored for a wailing child

Or a screaming parent

Rooms waiting to be cleaned

As I hide among my notebooks

Terrified of snow-cloaked walkways

Every day the battle rages

So many beings calling out my name

Each one believing

They are my only priority

(Funniest part of this poem is that during the writing of it, I had to handle a toddler climbing into my lap, a parent asking about dinner, and two phone calls. Not to mention a grandparent and a grandson battling over the noise coming out of a Spongebob piano.  One is trying to lower the volume and the other refuses to hit anything besides the pre-installed ‘Rock’ beat.  Hard I’m managing to finish a 500+ page book is beyond me.)