by T.C Leonard

Created on: May 18, 2009   Last Updated: May 19, 2009

"The Airless, Mindless Vacuum"

I reach the black hole every morning,
And each day it sucks me in
Robbing me of eight fruitful hours
Before it spits me out again

It's a wormhole full of vermin
Who plot and snitch and lie
In an airless, mindless vacuum
Where my labors go to die

It's but a pinhole in the fabric
Of this epic we call life
And but a gathering of poltergeists
Who feed on hate and strife

Once it wasn't a bad place,
Until the coming of the jerk
Who stripped us of comraderie
And took the fun out of our work.

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