Poems and Heartache

Nine

Vacuums.

It sucks me up,

It pulls me down.

It pins me to the ground,

It wrenches my last bit of hope

out of my small clammy hand.

I watch it roll into the maniacal machine.

It chuckles in the dead silence,

just waiting for me to get up

and do something.

But I don't.

What's the point?

To let it be sucked up again?

To be lost until I can muster just a little

until it evaporates out of my reach.

Just to watch it float down the rivers

and over the mountains?

Just to have my last sliver of dignity

be sucked away?

No.

I will not let this machine

Pull me into its air shaft.

I will fight and never give up.

I will grab hold of the soft ruffled rug

and hold onto it for dear life.

I will make the most of what I have

around me.

I will create the most out of what I have

and make something of tomorrow.

I will have the a stronger hope pulse

within me.

Go live your life,

end it with memories not regrets.

Live it with happiness not vacuums.