Maybe it is because I spend my time on other things
That he begs for attention
Never letting me too far out of reach,
Always pulling me back
Then, tripping me up with long limbs.
I just can’t wait until he is quiet
Because I am tired and just want to get stuff done
Cross off the items on my list of things to do
But he is out of control,
Crashing and banging into everything
Gobbling everything up in his path
Including items he is not suppose to touch
After a tug-of-war, I get the pieces back
All covered with grime.
I know I seem harsh
But we have a love-hate relationship,
My vacuum and I.