Credentials.

I wrote this poem after a “Careers Workshop” at my University. I didn’t quite know how to feel after approximately 30 minutes of questioning surrounding “what are my employable qualities?” paired with “Any experience for this role?”, or indeed “what makes me different from other candidates?” whilst simultaneously displaying a demeanor that reeked of nicely-fitting-in-and-being-a-yes-man. Ho-hum.

So, I didn’t write a CV out of it. I wrote this.
It’s called Credentials.

I got a 1st in Worry from the University of Panic.
I got straight A’s in Anxiety.
Special Achievement Award for when I’m suitably manic,
as for my depression,
much has been said for my ability.
Oh, and I’m top of the class for irritability.
I’ve got certificates in stress.
And the medals in my cupboard are for the countless
episodes where I’ve become
an emotional mess.
I’m No. 1 at overthinking.
I’m unsurpassed at second-guessing
and not being able to see the good in things
is simply what I’m best in.
I’m a fine student of chaos
in the field of disorder.
My brain is the ring
and I’m taking it to Mordor.
I’ve got trophies for uncertainty
and a grant for my fears.
I’ve gained a lifetime of troubles
in only 23 short years.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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