Tick Tick Tick Tock

Silly...ness

 

Tick Tick Tick Tock

 

There it is resting, on my dull beige wall

Reminding me to whom we slaves must call

Rotating round like a globe or ball

How in the world can power be so small?

Restricting my view as I walk down the hall

Not such a wise idea, when you trip and fall

Cause you rather get lost at a shopping mall

Than be a slave to a clock, on a dull beige wall.

 

Reviews

[Jessica Fox]

What a great poem and I hate being a slave to a clock.

[Shannon]

The kind of font you ussed was very confuseing for me to read. But that is just me. But this was a very good poem and it made me think of life how it it is in a way.

[closed account]

don't you know it!!! time is our worst enemy!! lol,, cute poem... I enjoyed it! I loved the font!!! what is that???

[Wildfleour]

As we "mature", the clock seems to tick louder and louder, reminding us of our mortality. It's good, in a way, because every moment is then all the more precious. Every word spoken more important. Every action more significant.

A certain clarity in-between the tick and tock.