The Ticking Clock

The Ticking Clock

I am not sure. I couldn't say
exactly when she went away.
I'm thinking it was near the stroke of midnight.

I do not know. I didn't hear
exactly when the hand of fear
began to squeeze my heart; was it at day break?

I thought I heard ... what is that sound?
I closed the door and looked around.
She's not back although it's close to mid-day.

When will it end; I'll never know.
Tick, tock, tick the hands so slow,
bringing me to half past the time of heartache.