The Hole
I lie in my bed,
I walk down the street,
I stand in a line,
I look down a hole.
A little ting on the ground,
Like a paperclip falls.
A look for the maker,
Who is already gone.
Now feeling lighter,
My step is quickened.
Far behind now is the place
Where a little ting showed its face.
I see my day pass by in a blur.
At the end of the day I am lighter.
But one thing I did miss explicitly,
Were the little tings that followed me.
I get to bed,
I fall fast asleep.
I'm dreaming and dreaming,
Then waking up screaming.
I sit up so quickly,
My head spins all round.
My hands fly through air
And land, not upon my brow.
Alas, my hands go to my chest,
Where they feel simply nothing,
Nothing but empty nothingness.
Where has my heart been taken?
But wait!
There is something to remember!
All of the tings following my pace!
Yes that is it, but what does it mean?
And then I come back to myself,
I feel my head stop spinning.
My eyes go wide,
I even stop breathing.
My hands slowly drop,
A tear rolls down my cheek.
I now know the tings.
I now know the maker.
My heart has slowly fallen,
Right down out of my chest.
With little pieces barely heard,
A hole has been created, alas.
RmeGamr Community Member 
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