I’m Obsessed

A poem

My head is an engine full of always-clinking gears
With pipes pushing steam that I’m afraid might burst

There’s a conveyor belt somewhere
Pumping out in mass production one thing

One thought
Over and over and over and over

It screams as it falls off the edge of the conveyor

Into a pile that’s half achievement,
Half guilt that it isn’t enough

It takes different forms
That I need to earn more
Write more
Do more

But at base each thought’s the same
Screaming over the busy gears and venting pipes

Every day, all day
To the rhythm of the mechanical heart that I was given:

MAKE.

MAKE.

MAKE.

MAKE.

Thanks for reading. If you’re in the mood to read one more poem I made for you: