Suck the dry out of you

Distant shadow, lurching in my direction like a desperate Leprechaun
grabbing at all that is holy while yelling about your state of being

As if that is anybody’s business other than one’s own marrow of discontent
produced by mirrors of expectations placed on you again and again

Then it crumbles into dust and rubble of leverage used against you
with harsh sentimentality of seemingly sincerity producing angst

It isn’t you or them or the other one; it isn’t me or what lies underneath
the pools of missed opportunities or poor planning behind clouds hovering

It becomes clear the vacuum cleaner is the heart and soul of those wanting
you to be them, echoing their every move and thought like a tumbling of vice

And yet there is a muffled cry of “please, let me be,” unheard and ignored
to be aloft in a perfect vehicle while running around with confused necklaces

Choking off all air of independence; originality is a sin, not a blessing
but the idea is strong, persistent, reclusive and dependable it lingers

Blood flows into the main membrane keeping intact theories bombarding internal
workings of my small ideals swirling fast and heavy like flood waters unleashed

It is not enough to be free. It is not enough to be me. It is just not enough.
Watch the words because they have a high cost of explanation

Be forewarned: They do not rest until they suck the dry right out of you
and then they look around for another. It is not enough for them. Never is.


About stevewhitmore

Former award-winning newspaperman and broadcast journalist, both radio and TV, spanning three decades. Army-trained paralegal, court bailiff and prosecutor's lead investigator for the 8th Infantry Division's Judge Advocate General's Corp., Mainz, Germany. 1973-1975.
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