The Death of Grandfather Time

 

 

 

Tick, Tock.

 

Grandfather, both tall and strong

ticked his tune to his dusty song.

 

He remembered the days of long ago,

the days when mice tails brushed his base.

And truly, his age was starting to show

by the slowing arms that circled his face.

 

The cobwebs were entangled around his chest,

and spiders and dust had muffled his gong.

But oddly enough, unlike the rest,

Grandfather still kept ticking his song.

 

Time had far forgotten this splintered old clock,

and a long crack had conquered his glassy old middle.

But his gears were strong; strong as a rock

and for that, he remained, fit as a fiddle.

 

But even though his mind was great,

he could feel the walls begin to shake.
 

The wrecking ball came crashing down

as the house began to be the ground.

 

Tick, Tock.

 

These were the final seconds that were spoken from Grandfather’s mouth,

just before time had won at last.

And then, quite suddenly, he toppled down south

into a heap of wood with a dusty blast.

 

Grandfather, both tall and strong,

ticked no more his dusty song.

Reviews

[Ian]

I liked it.
It's a little sad but it's good!

Good write! =)

[Cherryblossom]

Wonderful, I love the imagery here. Nice job. :)

[Adrian K. Smith]

It is the unfortunate nature of rhymes, at times, to draw undue attention to themselves; which as some know, can cause a certain distraction to the flow...

...thankfully for me at least, but usually not for others in the least, I have always been more interested in what was being said rather than the means by which it was being said.

Tall, strong, no more - is what I read, and I am quite sure... what you said.

[Legion]

Poor clock. A few lines were a bit rough in the flow, but the story was original and kept my attention. Well done.