Tick Tock Tick Tock
Like a bomb ready to explode
Tick Tock Tick Tock
Or a countdown of death
Tick Tock Tick Tock
The hands circle the surface
Fills you with a sense of dread, like a slave driver
As you become dependent on it
And feel vulnerable to lateness or angst
Tick Tock Tick Tock
The Catalyst of Life
The preventer of time
An essential agony
Tick Tock
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2 comments:
Good poem Chelsea. I guess it's better than my coversheet.
Wow...considering what you act like and how happy and sweet you are, this surprises me...in a good way. It's really good!
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