Poetry

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Tick, Tick, Tock

A pencil is pulled across hard enamel.
Tick, tick, tock.

A worried brow show no fear and causes none to fet.
Yet the clock goes
tick, tick, tock.

An empty page stares back at you.
tick, tick, tock

Rustling leaves from the cool night breeze moves your soul to rest while blank pages on your desk sway in the gentle breeze.
Yet the clock goes
tick, tick, tock.

Moon shadows dance against the wall.
Tick, tick, tock.

Night chills goose your arm, sleep calls,
beckoning your eyes to rest
while fear stands at the door.
Yet the clock goes
tick, tick, tock.

Morning arrives much too soon
tick, tick, tock

Twelve hours to live
twelve hours to give
twelve hours before you stand and die
yet the clock goes
tick, tick, tock.

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